You're the King of My Heart
by Quatermass
Summary: (Inspired by Dis Lexic's 'Awaken the Dragon' challenge and, with permission, DaSalvatore's "Rebirth of the Founders") It's not well known that Arturia Pendragon had a childhood friend in Salazar Slytherin, tragic love scuppered by death. But fate gives them a second chance. Reborn as Harry Potter, Sal, along with a revived Arturia and Mordred, must face enemies old and new...
1. Foreword

**FOREWORD**

Ever since Dis Lexic posted their 'Awaken the Dragon' challenge, I'd wanted to do this. A story that pairs Harry with Arturia. Admittedly, I did that already in _Ex Umbra in Solem_, but that didn't quite feel right to me. This story, however, did. It had a very troubled genesis, and went through multiple iterations, including a crossover with _Fate/Apocrypha_ (a few elements of which made it into _My Beautiful Huntress_, believe it or not), but eventually, I managed to find the right angle for it.

What's more, from the start, I actually based this loosely on elements from DaSalvatore's brilliant reincarnation fic _Rebirth of the Founders_, and DaSalvatore very kindly gave me permission to use the concept of Harry being a reincarnated Salazar Slytherin from it, though I doubt it is unique to their work, nor is my characterisation of Slytherin too close to their own. Give their fic a read, okay?

Anyway, time for the usual disclaimers. Firstly, there will be spoilers for both Harry Potter and _Fate/Stay Night_.

Secondly, there will be heavy annotations, as is usual for my works. You have been warned.

Thirdly, this is an M-Rated work. There will be coarse language, violence, and sexual references. Again, you have been warned.

Finally, the following is a fan-written work. Harry Potter and _Fate/Stay Night_ are the properties of their respective owners. Please support the official release. Otherwise, Grey will bisect you with Add…


	2. Chapter 1: Revival

**CHAPTER 1:**

**REVIVAL**

_"You bastard. You effeminate cambion __**bastard**__. Did you know about this? I'll bet you knew __**something.**__"_

_The man with the long face framed by dark hair knelt down next to the body sitting up against the tree. The fools deluded themselves into believing her to be a man, stuck as an eternal youth. But the man knew better. He stroked the cheek of the woman he loved, the woman who chose to become a king because of her bloodline. She could have been sleeping, but he knew better._

_"Ria…" the man said quietly, tears trickling down from his emerald eyes. "I'm sorry…I should have been here. But Godric…he got in the way. He told me, if he couldn't have you, nobody would. He betrayed you. I wish I could have stopped your sister…or at least found a way to stop Mordred. I haven't found her corpse. Otherwise, I would have given her a proper burial. Bastard or not, traitor or not…I think she deserved that much. She was to be pitied, not hated. But…you didn't even give her that. I'd like to think she's how our daughter might have turned out. Maybe less violent, but certainly as rambunctious, strong-willed, and with a fire you would have been proud of."_

_No reply was forthcoming, and he sagged. "Ria…already they're singing songs about you. They have been for some time, but I know the fucking bards are going to be singing about your glorious final battle…not knowing or caring that so many people have died. That you were once a sweet little girl, cursed by the blood of your father, with a __**destiny**__. That you weren't actually happy with Guinevere, not in the way that we were. That I lost you when you pulled Caliburn from the stone. I would give almost anything, even my magic, to have you amongst the living once more, and free from that damned destiny. To be the person I knew you should be. A strong woman, yes, a warrior woman…but not a king. You killed your heart and soul doing that, and mine as well."_

_He stood, looking down at the corpse of his beloved, noting how the sunlight made her hair look like woven gold. He wished he could see her eyes, emerald like his own. "…I'm not even sure life is worth living now. Not…not without you, Ria." He sobbed quietly and openly._

_Then, he straightened, getting off the ground and looking at the corpse of the woman he loved. "There's one thing I can do, even if I die trying. I'm going after that bitch of a sister of yours. There were many reasons why that civil war happened, like your style of ruling, that mess with Lancelot and Guinevere, rejecting Mordred as an heir…but in the end, Morgan set fire to the kindling. Helga told me I should be merciful to the defeated…and look where it got us. And now, look at what Godric did. After Morgana, if I live, he's next. I'm glad we got to meet one last time, when you came to France for Lancelot…that we were able to reconcile…but it doesn't matter anymore. Sal's gone, dead with his sense of mercy. Salazar Slytherin has taken his place. Goodbye…my love…goodbye, Arturia…"_

_And with that, he walked away from that sun-dappled wood, leaving behind the corpse of the Once and Future King, and the woman he loved…_

* * *

It had been a dream that he had had for some time, ever since the Chamber of Secrets, one he generally never remembered when he woke. Certainly, he never remembered who the man was. The odd thing was, the dreams that haunted him, they felt more like memories than dreams. It was only now, shortly after the horrific end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, that he remembered it. It was like the Cruciatus had dislodged something to do with it.

The night after his escape from the graveyard, he was walking through the corridors of Hogwarts with a renewed purpose, heading to a place he only really knew where to go to. He'd been back to the Chamber of Secrets a number of times since the first time, towards the end of his second year. It was because of something he glimpsed, shortly before he had to take Ginny away. It was something he returned to when he was at his lowest. Not even Hermione knew about this.

After entering the bathroom and activating the entrance, he descended into the Chamber of Secrets, walking through the musty tunnels, until he came to where he defeated the Basilisk. A profound sense of sadness came over him, as it did the last few times he was here. The Basilisk wasn't evil, not truly. It was compelled to follow Voldemort's orders.

Then, he entered the mouth of the statue of Salazar Slytherin…only, he knew that wasn't Salazar's statue now. No, that was one of Salazar's relatives, a Pureblood obsessive who stole Salazar's name and ran it into the mud. Salazar Slytherin was a misanthrope, not a racist. Or at least that's what the dreams claimed. And he could believe it too, somehow.

In his dreams, he saw something different. Slytherin wasn't contemptuous towards Muggleborns, but rather, towards Muggles that organised witch-hunts. He'd been proactive in killing those, something that got him into trouble with the other Founders, especially when he attacked Muggles who mistreated their magical children. He didn't think much of Muggles, true, but he didn't think much of his fellow wizards either. He was more of a general misanthrope, and had been for much of his life. Then again, when you were the bastard offspring of a so-called Pureblood line born when your father raped a Muggle woman, and were treated like dirt by relatives both magical and mundane, it was rather hard not to be. A chief tormentor had been a local bully called Godric.

One of his few friends in the village was a girl with golden hair and eyes as emerald as his own. The foster daughter of Sir Ector, and the adoptive sister of the boy who would become Sir Kay. After they became friends, he'd often call her Ria', and she 'Sal'. Godric became jealous of their closeness, and tried multiple times to break them apart, believing that he deserved her more than Salazar. She was the one who kept him out of the darkness he nearly fell into…only to find she had a higher calling. He'd warned her, and so did Merlin, that bloody effeminate cambion troll, that she'd be sacrificing a lot to become king. But she had seen the suffering of the people, mundane and magical alike, and wished to put an end to that.

So dutiful. She pulled Caliburn from the stone. On that day, Ria ceased to be, and the King of the Britons took her place.

His destination was through a door just near the entrance of the tunnel leading out into Slytherin's mouth. He opened it, and then went through. The chamber beyond was vast, lined with a tapestry depicting the life of a warrior in blue, white and silver, with golden hair. However, the flowers lining the walls were new, to his consternation. Someone, he was sure, had been here. Aside from the two other people in the room. Then again, he didn't think they counted, given that they were dead.

Both lay in state on stone biers covered in glass. Both looked similar, to be girls in their mid-teens, about his age. They could have been sisters, with their similar androgynous faces set in gentle repose and golden hair. One was dressed in what could only be called an armoured dress, silver plating over a blue and white dress, gauntleted hands over her chest, clutching at an elaborate, beautiful sword, her hair done up in an elaborate bun. The other was dressed in more aggressive-looking armour, only her visible face betraying her gender, and even then, it was a rather more tomboyish look that could have been a boy's. Her hair was more messy.

At the base of the biers was a stand with an engraving on it. In Parselscript, it said, _Here lieth Arturia Pendragon, the Once and Future King of the Britons, and her child, Mordred Pendragon. One day, in an hour of need for Britain, they shall return_.

"Not that they awoke when William the Conqueror invaded," Harry muttered. "Or when all those wars happened. The Wars of the Roses, the Civil War, World War I and II…not to mention Voldemort."

"You'll note that the inscription says '_in AN hour of need_'. In any case, would the people have accepted her return? After all, she chose to hide her gender when she became King. Even now, in this supposedly enlightened age, people would have trouble accepting that King Arthur was a girl."

The voice was soft, calm and cultured. It could be said that Harry hadn't heard it before…but he had, in his dreams. He looked over to where it came from, to find a tall, elegant man dressed in robes, apparently in his early twenties, with long, messy pale blue hair framing effeminate features.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded. "What are you doing here?"

"I'll answer your questions in reverse," the man said. "I'm not truly here. I am still trapped, as I have been for the past several centuries. At best, I am able to project myself here, use a mere fraction of my power. Perhaps it's for the best. The world is not yet ready for me to re-emerge. The why is related to the what. I feel responsible for the predicament of these two." He walked over to the biers, and tapped the glass cases. Projection or not, his finger made a distinctive chime. "I set Arturia's fate in motion, a fate she would stay the course on until twilight came down upon her reign and life. Mordred was one of the consequences I did not foresee, a puppet dangling on the strings of Morgan le Fay, my foe as well as Arturia's. Both of them deserve happiness…as do you." He looked up at Harry, and gave a sad smile. "As for the whom, well, I think you can take a rough guess, given that I can feel what you once were stirring deep within you."

Harry didn't know what he meant by that, not at first. But then, a name occurred to him, one he whispered in incredulous tones. "…Merlin?"

"Merlin Ambrosius, or Myrddin Emrys, the Magus of Flowers," the man said, with a bow. "Imprisoned within an enchanted tower by Nimue, influenced by Morgan le Fay. You may applaud, but I doubt you will. You used to have all these arguments with me, you know. Sadly, one thing you always warned me about came to pass. That I was perhaps too forgiving, a giver of so many chances, and that it would come back to bite me."

"We've never met," Harry said, albeit uncertainly.

"Not in this life. In a way, Voldemort's resurrection has helped weaken my bonds. Enough so that I can help nudge things here and there. I have just enough power now to bring them back to life. Oh, they're not dead. Merely sleeping. It's like an ultra-potent form of the Draught of Living Death, one that will keep them on the knife-edge between life and death. But with the power that I can channel into them, they will wake, their injuries healed. And I can also break through the block on your memories. Once that has been accomplished…you'll have to learn where to find Avalon and Excalibur. You'll need them in the time to come."

Suddenly, Merlin waved his hands over the glass coffins on the biers, and they shattered into scintillating motes of dust, which themselves faded into the air. There was twin ragged gasps from the two figures on the biers. But Harry barely registered them. Because just as the coffins shattered… he felt something within his mind burst, like a collapsing dam. And then…he _remembered_.

* * *

The last thing Arturia Pendragon remembered was drifting off to sleep after speaking with Bedivere. He had given her a potion, one of the last things Merlin had instructed him to do, apparently, before she slipped into the sleep eternal. She had not been expecting to wake up.

And yet, her eyes had snapped open, and a breath, the first one in over a thousand years, was sucked into her chest. She could hear someone screaming nearby, but she couldn't get up. She couldn't help them. Her limbs were unresponsive, until finally, she managed to sit up, clinging to the sword on her chest. She looked down at it in bemusement. Caliburn? But she thought it had been lost.

"Ugh, my head," grunted a familiar voice. "Okay, where the hell am I? And why do I feel like I've been on a bender rather than being turned into a shish-kebab? Actually, why do I know what a shish-kebab is?"

Arturia turned to look at the source of the voice, and stilled, seeing a face she had only seen briefly, though the armour was unmistakeable. The face like her own, and yet unlike her own, framed by the messy golden hair pulled back in a ponytail. Mutual recognition passed between them, Arturia's face becoming set, while Mordred became set in a snarl of fury. But before they could say anything, they heard another scream. Another brief and silent communication passed between them. The pair of them were knights, and no matter what Mordred's own sins, she also didn't shy away from helping those in trouble.

The pair of them got off their respective biers, and approached the convulsing form. A boy, of about fifteen or sixteen, was thrashing and writhing on the ground, clutching his head. A messy thatch of black hair framing his features, his frame a bit on the scrawny side, and he was dressed in robes. Arturia frowned. She was getting a familiar feeling from him, even as she hastened to his side, as did Mordred. Then, suddenly, a scar on the boy's forehead burst open, and black gunk spat out, with a shade, outlined in black smoke, fleeing from it, wailing as it dissipated.

Eventually, the boy stopped convulsing and spasming. Instead, he lay on the floor, panting painfully, and finally, Arturia got a good look at his features. And stared. "Impossible…"

"Whaddya mean, impossible?" Mordred peered at him, before her eyes widened. "What the actual hell? He looks a little different but…that can't be him, can it? He was all middle-aged and crap when I saw him last."

Arturia bit off a retort, just as emerald eyes flickered open behind glasses. Then, painfully, disbelievingly, he rasped, "…Ria?" His eyes then flickered over to Mordred. "Little Mordred?"

Arturia, hardly believing it herself, whispered, "Sal? But…how can this be?"

"Ro' would probably know, little swot, or that protégé of hers, Elisa," the boy who was Salazar Slytherin reborn said. "Or that damned cambion troll. You're back…you're both back…" He got to his feet and drew them both into a hug, not seeming to care that neither knight wanted to be in close proximity to the other…and yet, after a moment, neither did they. Somehow, improbably, a reunion had been engineered, across centuries and dimensions. But time would tell whether it would last…

**CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

**So, Harry's Salazar Slytherin? And he knew Arturia and Mordred? Well, I'm sure many of you will take this as proof I've gone off the deep end.**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	3. Chapter 2: Reunion

**CHAPTER 2:**

**REUNION**

Harry…yes, that's all he could think of himself as. He'd spent admittedly less years alive as Harry Potter than as Salazar Slytherin, but it was enough for his identity as Harry to solidify. His memories of being Salazar Slytherin only added to the sum totality of him. Then again, in many ways, they were more alike than they cared to imagine. And now, he was reunited with her.

He admired her from afar, and while he never became a fixture at Camelot, they met at times. He was one of the few whom she allowed any cracks in that façade of perfection to show. He'd advised her to not to show that ridiculous perfection, the one that might alienate her subjects, but she refused. And then, the rows. The last one, where accusations had been made of Salazar murdering one of her trusted knights, was the last straw. Arturia had been forced to exile him to save face, even though she knew that Salazar would never had done such a thing. At the time, Salazar suspected Morgan le Fay to be responsible for that. In truth, it had been Godric Gryffindor.

And then, the civil war caused by Mordred, with her mother, Morgan Le Fay, pulling the strings. Mordred, who only wanted to be acknowledged as worthy, but Arturia, knowing Mordred would not be a good king, refused her time and again. Sal had met Mordred on several occasions, and knew that Mordred had no real malice, just an ambition, a desire to be noticed, acknowledged, and, Sal was sure, loved. And had Arturia been any more flexible, she could have at least returned it. She never hated Mordred, but she never showed her the warmth her daughter desired, the acknowledgement, beyond Mordred's skill as a warrior.

And then, he was pleaded with to return. And he did so, only for Godric to intercept them, killing the knights and mages with him, and declaring that Salazar would never have Arturia, for Arturia was Godric's, and his alone, and if he couldn't have her, then nobody would.

That battle between them never made it into the songs or history books. They said Salazar merely slunk off in cowardly disgrace over blood purity. How ludicrous.

Even now, he wasn't in full command of his memories, to say nothing of his abilities. Only some memories stood out, and some of the spells he remembered, he knew he wasn't quite powerful enough to use them. His magic needed more training first.

Still, it was good to see her again. And not just Arturia, but Mordred as well. Okay, Mordred tried to kill Arturia (and certainly landed a mortal blow), but Mordred was a tool of Morgan. He knew that.

"So, where are we, anyway?" Mordred asked, wrinkling her nose as she peered out into the darkness beyond the chamber. "Smells like something the Kneazle dragged in and pissed all over."

"My little secret lair beneath Hogwarts," Harry said. "The Chamber of Secrets. Only my family hijacked it. Frankly, I don't know how you two ended up here in the first place."

He looked over at Arturia, and gave her a sad smile, one she returned. That little tuft of golden hair sprouting from her noggin like an insect's antenna. He remembered teasing her about it, while she just teased him about his unruly hair. It was so wonderful to see her actually looking human, instead of that stern, kingly demeanour. "You've changed, Sal," she said. "You're young again…and yet your eyes…"

"It's a long story, Ria. The last memory I have of you is of your corpse. I managed to arrive just as Bedivere was leaving. He told me. I'd wished I had dabbled in the same sort of arts the rest of my accursed family had in, if it meant bringing you back. So, instead, I went after Morgan."

"…You killed her," Arturia said. It wasn't a question.

"Not before torturing her. The irony is, she killed me with a Basilisk she had tamed. But before I died, I used the cursed flames of Fiendfyre."

"Whoa-ho! Hardcore stuff right there, Salazar!" Mordred chuckled. "Still, couldn't have happened to a nicer person. I mean…I realised Mum was playing me…but by the time I did, I didn't care anymore."

"And what of the people of Britain?" Arturia asked archly.

"Hey, don't you start, Father! Or do you need reminding? '_The King does not understand human feelings_'," Mordred quoted mockingly, her teeth bared in a snarl.

Before the argument could get anywhere, Harry snapped, "Oi! Stop that. I would've thought you two would be satisfied with your mutual kill at Camlann. You're not here to continue that! Anyway, it's been centuries since Camlann. Britain's still around."

"And what of Camelot?" Arturia asked.

"Lost to the ages. Or maybe it's under a Fidelius," Harry said. "Merlin, or a projection of him, was here just before you two awoke…and I regained myself. He said that, once you two awoke, he said I'd know where Excalibur and Avalon were. I presume he meant the sheath of Excalibur, not the isle of Avalon." He frowned. "Then again, I vaguely recall Avalon being associated with Glastonbury Tor. Maybe we should go there first. Well, we need to find a way to explain you two to the other students here. We'd need clothes. And I know what you're thinking, Little Mordred. I've seen what you wear under your armour. Even these days, it's considered a bit scandalous."

Mordred scoffed, her armour fading away in a flare of light to reveal…well, somewhat revealing clothes for a girl in her mid-teens. Basically, it amounted to little more than a strapless sports bra, sleeves, leggings and a vaguely skirt-like assortment of cloths. "Not for a man," Mordred retorted.

"Look, Mordred, we've been over this. You're a girl." He matched Mordred's automatic glare with an unimpressed look. "People are either going to stare, or want you. And they're going to call you a girl anyway, including some good friends of mine. This is an age where, theoretically, women can be warriors and not be looked down upon. Anyway, you know I didn't give a damn about Ria or you being women knights. And you're like a niece to me, just like Elisa was, even if she was Ro's protégé."

Mordred, after a moment, clicked her tongue. "You're lucky I liked you, Salazar. Anyone else said that crap to me, and I would have unmanned them."

"This isn't the Dark Ages anymore. Impromptu castrations are generally frowned upon these days in civilised society," Harry snarked.

"Even of rapists?" Mordred asked.

"Sadly, yes. I won't say no, though, only just you be discreet."

"Sal, don't encourage Mordred's bad habits," Arturia said with a sigh, dispelling the armoured part of her dress for now.

"Oh, wow, is Father actually trying to live up to the name?" Mordred asked, crossing her arms. "It's…how many centuries since Camlann again? So it's a bit late for you to start being a _parent!_" She shook her head in disgust. "Okay, so I'll dress in other clothes for now."

"Hmm…Dobby!" Harry called out. Dobby appeared, and stared at the two girls…well, one girl, and a woman with the body of a teenaged girl. "Dobby…these two are Arturia and Mordred. Now…I need some Hogwarts uniforms in their sizes. And that doesn't mean stealing it from others."

Dobby's eyes widened. "The Once and Twice King, and his son…her daughter?" Mordred growled at the House Elf.

However, Arturia knelt down, and smiled at the House Elf. "One of the Fae's servitors," she mused. "Well met, Dobby. Would you kindly get my child and I some suitable clothes?"

"Dobby will do that, Miss Arty!" nodded the House Elf eagerly. "Oh, and by the way, congratulations!"

As the House Elf disappeared, Arturia frowned. "Congratulations? What do you think he meant by that?"

"Whatever. You know, that's the first time you've ever really called me your child," Mordred said.

"And? I never disavowed you as my child, Mordred, only as my heir."

Harry interposed himself between Mordred and Arturia. "Mordred, Ria…please. Do you want to spend your new life bickering? Seriously, things must've gone very badly wrong if I'm meant to be the peacemaker."

This had Arturia smiling a little wryly. "…Yes. I remember the rows you had with almost everyone. I remember you threatening Sir Ector, intending to, and I quote, '_shove your sword where the sun doesn't shine_', when you were arguing about the reputation of Queen Boudicca."

"Whereupon he promptly whacked me with the flat of his sword and said, '_Uppity punk, I'd love to see you try!_'," Harry said with a rueful smile. "He was an arse, but he at least treated me better than half the people there. A wizard and a bastard and a Slytherin. Three strikes against me."

"…And this life?"" Arturia asked quietly.

Harry stilled, and then looked at Arturia, weariness in his emerald eyes. "I was orphaned thanks to a deranged Blood Supremacist warlock calling himself Voldemort who claimed to be the heir of Slytherin, just because he was a Parselmouth. He's also a Halfblood, not a Pureblood. My Muggle relatives treated me like a live-in servant, making my bedroom a small boot cupboard. Half the time, the British wizards can't make up their tiny little minds as to whether I'm Merlin's second coming, or Slytherin's. And I mean that damned nephew who stole my name. I'm a celebrity for something my mother in this life probably died doing. At least you chose to remove Caliburn from the stone, Ria."

Arturia looked down to her sword in her hand. While Excalibur was her most famous sword, Caliburn, the Sword in the Stone, was her preferred sword, albeit for sentimental reasons. Unfortunately, it had been lost during one battle. Some legends claimed it had been shattered, and yet, here it was.

"So…what do we do about this Voldemort?" Mordred asked.

"Step One: Find Excalibur, Rhongomyniad, Avalon and/or Avalon. Step Two: I dunno yet. Step Three…"

"Profit?" Mordred asked.

"No, we deal with Voldemort for once and for all," Harry said. "Still…that's something I should be grateful to my memories of my past life. I'd bet he made Horcruxes. That diary was probably one of them," he mused out loud. "Then again, Excalibur's full blast could burn through the links he has to the Horcruxes."

"Horcruxes?" Mordred asked.

"Merlin spoke to me of them once," Arturia said with a scowl. "They are a type of phylactery, a receptacle for one's soul in order to ensure immortality…except you fracture it via the vilest of magical rituals combined with cold-blooded murder. Herpo the Foul was rumoured to be one of the first to create them, if not their originator."

Mordred stared at her 'father' incredulously. "…Seriously? Some morons go so far as to split their soul to be immortal? I don't think even Mother went that far." She looked down at her own sword. "I wonder if my sword would be enough to do the same. Still…it would be more than enough to deal with any pathetic warlocks of this age." Then, her green eyes caught a glimpse of something she hadn't noticed on Harry's hand. "Hey…Salazar, did you get wed in this life or not? Only, I'm pretty sure a ring should only be there if you're wed."

Harry looked at his hand startled. Sure enough, there was a simple ring. On his ring finger. And then, on an impulse, he looked at Arturia's hand, now uncovered by gauntlets…and saw a similar ring. Arturia looked shocked, and Mordred snickered. She then wandered over to a bier, and looked at where her head had been resting. "Hah! There's a letter from Merlin here. Must've left it here when he revived us. _To Mordred, you may read the letter within out loud, because I know you'll enjoy doing so_."

She shrugged, and opened the envelope, cleared her throat, and began speaking. "_To Arturia Pendragon, and Salazar Slytherin, aka Harry Potter. Now, as you have doubtless noticed by now, you each have wedding rings. My doing, I'm afraid. Consider this part of my penance for setting Arturia on the path of the king, and separating you, when in truth, you should have been together. Then again, it's going to be amusing watching your faces when you realise you are now bound in magical matrimony. You're welcome, by the way. An acquaintance by the name of Zelretch suggested this during our online correspondence._"

"…I am going to sodomise him with his own staff," Harry said in a flat tone.

"Hey, there's more, don't interrupt! _On a more serious note…I might be able to free myself soon. I hope. Voldemort, I fear, is far from your only serious foe. Harry, Arturia…I hope you two find the happiness in this life that you never could all those centuries ago. And the same goes for you, Mordred. Yours sincerely, Merlin Ambrosius._"

"…_Sideways_," Harry added. "I mean…it's not that I don't want to be with you, Ria, but…"

"I understand. Merlin has taken a major liberty," Arturia said, with considerable understatement. "Still…there are many far worse whom I could be bound to," she added ruefully, looking at the simple ring on her finger. "We'll consider what to do about this later. The hour is late, and while we have slept enough for many lifetimes, fatigue is the enemy."

"Along with hunger, lack of awareness, mosquitoes, pebbles in shoes…" Harry snarked, thinking back to all the little things Arturia would claim to be the enemy. Still, it was good to have her back.

Now, the real problem was, how to explain the pair of them to everyone else?

**CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

**How indeed?**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	4. Chapter 3: Gorgoneion Castle

**CHAPTER 3:**

**GORGONEION CASTLE**

Arturia and Mordred looked around the foyer of the castle. Not Hogwarts, nor their beloved Camelot, but rather, Gorgoneion Castle in France, the citadel that had belonged to Salazar Slytherin, having claimed it by rite and right of conquest from a warlock who had challenged Arturia during the early days of her reign. Harry was standing next to them, looking around the once magnificent hall. It was still in fairly good condition, having been kept in stasis after Sal's death, but there was still a feeling of emptiness to it.

Harry had decided that he couldn't risk the two staying at Hogwarts and trying to explain them away, especially so soon after the Tri-Wizard Tournament fiasco. Instead, he ensured his former domicile was in order with Dobby's help, before bringing them here. He wasn't sure he trusted Dumbledore, and anyone he did trust would probably trust Dumbledore.

Harry sighed. "…So, you two, until I can get back safely to my supposedly loving relatives, I'm leaving you here, with Dobby to ensure you two don't come to blows. Ria, Little Mordred, please don't fight before I'm able to collect you two. I'll be gone a day or two at most."

"And then what?" Arturia asked.

"The best places to start looking for any artifacts from our time will either be the Department of Mysteries, or else what the Magus Association morphed into."

As if on cue, Merlin appeared. "I'm afraid that the Magus Association is as bad if not worse than the Ministry of Magic," the effeminate wizard said. "By the way, hello, Arturia, and hello, Mordred. I'm sure you enjoyed my little surprise, and…"

Before Arturia or Mordred, or indeed Harry could make any kind of interruption, something else did. "MURDER MERLIN FOU!" squealed a voice, before Merlin was kicked across the room by a small, fluffy white animal. It looked vaguely dog-like, or perhaps vaguely squirrel-like, its fluffy fur white, blue and lavender, its ears large. It then pounced upon Merlin, biting at his nose.

"GAH! DON'T ATTACK ME WHILE I'M MAKING CALLS, CATH PULUG!" Merlin complained. "THAT TEARS IT!" With that, Merlin wrenched the creature off his bleeding face, and then dropkicked it through a portal that seemed to open up in the middle of the air…with Arturia catching it as it seemed to exit another right in front of her.

Arturia cradled the creature, with Harry staring at it in shock. He knew what this was, after all. Galahad had been the one to give it a nickname, 'Fou', after one of the noises it made, though Merlin insisted on calling it 'Cath Pulug'. Harry, or rather, Salazar Slytherin, knew it was something more, and thanked his lucky stars that he was on Fou's good side. Fou, after all, was said to have the potential to become one of the Beasts of Calamity, _Beast IV_, aka Primate Murder. Up there with the likes of the primordial deity Tiamat and the rumoured Demon Pillar gestalt Goetia as a threat to humanity.

Fou turned to look at him, before chirping, "Kyuu?"

"Hi, Fou," Harry said. "…You know who I am?"

Fou nodded. "You know this critter?" Mordred asked, her eyes oddly entranced by the cute Beast.

"Yeah. I guess you can call him Merlin's pet, not that Fou wants to be known as his pet. He's a Phantasmal Beast…well, more than that. I don't think Fou would appreciate me saying much more," Harry said. "As long as you don't get on his bad side, we should be fine." Then, after a moment, he said, "He likes chin rubs. Galahad and Gareth were particularly good at them."

"The shield bastard did that?" Mordred asked. Arturia gave the Beast a chin rub as Fou clambered onto her shoulder, and he cooed.

Merlin cleared his throat. "Please stop ignoring me," the effeminate Magus of Flowers pouted, having healed his Fou-mangled face. "Anyway, the Magus Association has one of its primary headquarters at Clock Tower, in London, underneath the Palace of Westminster as well as under the British Museum. I know for a fact that there is someone there who is in possession of Rhongomyniad. I suggest that, when you regroup, you ask for Waver Velvet, Lord El-Melloi II. One of his students is the one who is in possession of Rhongomyniad. I think she will be in for a surprise, Arturia…then again, so are you. Anyway, have fun babysitting Cath Pulug for me."

"Wait a minute, who said we would be…?" Harry began, but Merlin had disappeared by then.

"…Y'know, I normally wouldn't want to babysit a Phantasmal Beast that looks like a poodle, but hey, if he mangled the cambion troll, then he can't be all bad, right?" Mordred asked.

"I would admonish you for your words, Mordred, but given how he took a liberty in binding Harry and I like he did, I do agree. A little bit of light mauling wouldn't hurt him. _Much_," Arturia said. "But I have to ask, Fou…you spoke, so I presume you are intelligent. But do you speak often?"

Fou shook his head. Harry said, "It's rare that Fou speaks beyond animal noises. It's not because he is stupid. In fact, he's scarily intelligent. In truth, I think he likes playing the role of a ridiculously cute animal, attacking Merlin aside. Then again, Fou has a soft spot for girls. Plus, Fou doesn't have much to talk about to humans, right, Fou?"

Fou nodded, but all but purred as Arturia scratched his chin gently. He didn't seem to mind Mordred gently stroking the Beast's fur either. "All right, Fou. Now, can I trust you to keep the peace between Ria and Little Mordred?"

"Fou!" the Beast chirped with another nod.

"What, you don't trust us?" Mordred protested.

"I don't trust you, Little Mordred, not to start something. Ria, I know, can swallow her pride for long enough if need be, but you…don't get me wrong, I trust you with my life, Mordred. But I don't trust you with Ria's, and I don't want you starting another fight. Anyway, there's a good training room in the basement if you need to work off your aggression. I'm sorry if you're hurt, but…"

"…I get it, Uncle Sal," Mordred said, a little morosely. "You don't wanna lose Father again."

"Yeah." He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. "Mordred, Morgan played you like a fiddle. She knew you'd want to be acknowledged as Ria's heir. And she knew Ria wouldn't consider you an heir, because…well, you didn't have the traits of a king, not most of them. But given time and tuition, maybe you would have." He shot Arturia a meaningful glance, and Arturia grimaced. "Mordred, history paints you as the worst kind of traitor, but I know you were just a girl looking for love and acknowledgement, that until you got shot down, you were one of Ria's most loyal knights. You have a second chance. Please don't waste it making the same mistakes from the past."

Mordred, after a moment, shook her head. "I just…sorry, I need to go train. Where's the training room?"

"The basement. You can't miss it. It's the second door on the left, it'll open into a room filled with training dummies that can repair themselves."

"Right. I'll call on the House Elf when I'm feeling peckish. I don't want to have dinner with company yet," she said, shooting her sire a look. "See you soon, Uncle Sal."

As Mordred strode away, Harry sighed, then turned to Arturia. "I'm sorry, Ria, but you needed to hear that. Mordred wanted love and acknowledgement from you, but you gave her neither."

"I had just found out that Morgan had raped me to conceive a child, and she was begging me to make her my heir. That was in spite of the fact that, with Excalibur and Avalon hindering my ageing, I would live for a long time," Arturia said, shooting Harry her own look. "I could have handled it better, true, but can you truly blame me for rejecting her? I did not hate her for being Morgan's child, only for being a product of that woman's manipulations, and for what she did to Camelot. Even if she didn't intend to betray me, would she still be a tool of my half-sister?"

"…One of your problems, Ria, and it's a problem we all had, was rigid thinking. Even I was like that at times. You banished me from court on spurious, manufactured evidence. Lancelot and I often argued about it while we were in exile. Stupid libidinous idiot…it took him long enough to believe in my innocence. As for you…I thought I knew you better. Then again, I blame that misogynistic prick Agravain more than I blame you. He was an efficient bastard, but he was also paranoid and despised anyone who was closer to you than he was, which was most of the Round Table. I'm actually glad Lancelot killed him."

"You truly hated him that much?"

"Out of all the Knights of the Round Table, I truly despised him. Don't get me wrong, he was a brilliant administrator and spymaster, but…well, I got on with Gawain more than I did with him, and you know that there were times when Gawain and I all but came to blows. He was too much like Godric for my liking, though at least Gawain was loyal to you." Harry shook his head. "Sorry, Ria. I know you'd prefer people to be frank with their opinions, even at Camelot. And I won't lie and say there isn't some bitterness over you exiling me."

"But you came back for me, I am sure," Arturia said. "Sal…I do not blame you for arriving at Camlann too late. And if her behaviour is any indication, Mordred feels the same way. It is how I treated you and Mordred that are two of the greatest regrets of my reign. Thanks to Merlin, we all have a second chance. I hope Mordred takes it. I know I will. But come back as soon as you are able."

"As my king commands," Harry said facetiously.

"I am a king with no realm, Harry," Arturia said.

"…That's not true, Ria," Harry said softly. "You're the king of my heart. It may be a small realm, but…it's something you'll always be king of."

Arturia looked a little…well, surprised was not the word. She knew very well that Salazar Slytherin was in love with her. It was more the wording, he knew, cheesy though it was, that surprised her. But she gave him a soft smile. "Even after all our disputes?"

"Ria…they hurt…but I knew I was right, and that your only fault was that you believed the wrong people, not because you had betrayed me yourself. It hurt me, but…if I truly decided that I wanted nothing to do with you, then I wouldn't have answered your call back to Britain. If you think you have something to make up to me, Ria…then promise me that you'll try to reach out to Mordred, to give her a second chance. Not many people deserve second chances, but Mordred…she's definitely one of them."

"I shall try," Arturia said, with a slightly curt formality…

* * *

Mordred snarled as she bisected another dummy, sending fluff and cloth flying. Then, she heard an unwelcome voice. Even her father's voice would have been more welcome. "What did that dummy ever do to offend you, Mordred?"

Mordred turned to find Merlin, or rather, one of his projections standing nearby. She scowled. "It existed, kinda like your girly features. If you were actually here, I'd rearrange them, free of charge."

"Now, now, I can't help the way I look any more than you can," Merlin chided. "I was the son of an incubus, after all, and you, well, you share your parents' looks. You actually remind me of Arturia when she was young. All impulsive and hot-headed. Not quite as vulgar and brash as you, but still…she was considerably more carefree, less weighed down by expectations."

"Yeah…and you were the one who egged her on to pull Caliburn from the stone," Mordred snarled. "And you knew how her reign was going to end, didn't you?"

"In broad terms, yes. I didn't know you would be one of the problems until you ended up showing your face to court and declaring your heritage, true, but…I knew Camelot would fall, and during Arturia's lifetime. And do not think that I enjoyed it. It is why I accepted being imprisoned in the Tower of Avalon, because I had played with so many lives so cavalierly. Mordred…I know you would react with incredulity about this, but you and I are not so different. We are both set apart from humanity because of our natures. I am a cambion, and you are a Homunculus. In truth, I was surprised at the connection you made with Salazar. That is why, when I knew I was about to be imprisoned, I decided to use my gifts of foresight for one last time, to see if I could find a future that had you, your sire, and Salazar in it, happy and alive. This was the best outcome, sadly, ensuring that both your body and that of Arturia were kept in stasis while they healed, and awaiting Salazar's reincarnation. You have a second chance, Mordred. Don't squander it trying to reignite a past battle."

Mordred's scowl merely deepened. It wasn't that she wanted to fight Father again. Well, actually, she did, but she also knew that, with Uncle Sal alive, and wanting to be with Father, well, she didn't want to hurt Uncle Sal. A man who had shown her more genuine kindness than either of her parents, who took her on a broomstick ride for her thirteenth birthday, even though she had been rude in demanding it. She knew he and Father loved each other (and she was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that her father was a woman, something she only truly realised now, as Father wasn't hiding it now), and…well, Father was far happier than Mordred had ever seen her being.

But would she ever be happy?

**CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:**

**Well, Arturia and Moedred have been given a temporary place to stay for now, while Harry goes back to Hogwarts to play his role. And a Wild Fou Appears!**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	5. Chapter 4: Preparations

**CHAPTER 4:**

**PREPARATIONS**

In the Shrieking Shack, a pair of hooded, robed figures met. "I think Merlin has managed to reach out from his prison," one, a woman, said.

"Oh? Your bindings must be rusting." This was a man, but no features were immediately apparent beneath his hood.

"Maybe…but I felt a very familiar feeling, even if only briefly. The flare of three distinctive signatures. It may be nothing…but I think we may have found our wayward king."

"_My_ wayward king. Not yours."

"Says the one who betrayed her, for another woman. Namely, me."

A snarl from beneath the hood. "You forget yourself."

"Actually, I do remember myself. Still, they don't know of our existence. I'm sure that they will be distracted by that fool of a snake. Then, we will swoop in, and claim what is rightfully ours…"

* * *

Harry hated having to wear a mask, to pretend he was still a teenaged boy, instead of someone with several decades of experience. Even with Occlumency, his behaviour was just different enough to Harry's norm that Ron and Hermione, of course, picked up on it. He allayed their fears by telling them he was beginning to fully comprehend what had happened in the graveyard, and Hermione, promptly, hugged him. Ron was concerned too, and Harry knew that Ron's betrayal, while disheartening, was merely the result of a childish and immature attitude, not out of any malice. The redhaired brat merely had an inferiority complex and a sense of entitlement that led him to bask in the reflected glory of the Boy Who Lived…but to tell the truth, Sal had lashed out in similar ways to Ron, and with more rancour and bitterness over similarly trivial matters. He never truly got over them.

On the train ride on the way back, though, something happened that tested his self-control. Malfoy came in, and began spouting off. But when he said that Cedric was only the first, with such a look of hateful glee, he snapped. True, Malfoy was only a child, but he was gloating about the end of Cedric Diggory, and he hated that. Sal may have taken lives, but he knew the value of a life, far more than many of those even under Arturia's command. He knew that he took from them everything.

He remembered an Ancient Egyptian curse based on their Shadow Magic, and so met Malfoy's gaze with a cold look. _Penalty Game: Experience of Death(__1)_, he thought, using Legilimency to implant the curse into Malfoy's mind. A cruel curse that would cause him to feel what it was like to die, over and over again, in his dreams. He would never have a restful night's sleep again in his life until Harry deigned to remove it from him.

But Harry had had enough of Malfoy's cruelty, never checked properly by the teachers. He delighted in suffering and misery, and yet was too cowardly to do much more than run to his father. He saw all sorts of disgusting fantasies in Malfoy's mind, of raping Hermione, of torturing and killing Muggles and Muggleborns. It was doubtful Malfoy would even kill himself to escape it, as it meant going through what he went through every night for real. Either the curse would force him to rethink his priorities, or else drive him to insanity, for daring to demean the deaths of innocents, even think it just and desirable. As far as Harry was concerned, either way was fine. Malfoy reminded him too much of Godric, and perhaps his actions were a little personal, but he didn't particularly care for now.

Malfoy was chilled by the glare, not knowing what had been put into his mind, and had gone away with little else. Harry then returned to reading, knowing that the battle lines had been drawn, trying to avoid questions from the others. He'd lost control, and allowed the vindictive snake within to lash out and bite. However, he made arrangements with the others. Instead of Hedwig, if they needed to pass messages to him, they could use Dobby. It was a wise precaution, given the trouble brewing on the horizon, like a storm.

As he disembarked from the train at the station, he went over his plan. Once he got back to the Dursleys, and put those disgusting parodies of Muggles in their place, he intended to head back to Gorgoneion, nut out a plan with Ria and Mordred, before heading for Clock Tower and an audience with Lord El-Melloi II.

He grinned to himself. Revenge would be sweet against the Dursleys…

* * *

Arturia began eating lunch in the dining room of Gorgoneion. The familiarity of the stone walls helped, as she was still coming to terms with the fact that her reign was over a thousand years into the past. Somehow, she had some sort of knowledge of the modern world, at least in broad strokes. Merlin, she guessed. In healing her and waking her up, he also granted her knowledge of this era.

Still, it was more than a little disconcerting to learn that one's reign had become something of myth and legend rather than history. Though to be honest, despite the various distortions of her reign, she was least offended by the concept that she was a man. That was, after all, how she presented herself, aided by a charm from Merlin. Only a few knew the truth.

Even in times to come, there were women warriors, many of whom met sticky ends partly because of their gender. The information in her head included the legend of Jeanne d'Arc, aka Joan of Arc. Her end was tragic, and while Arturia's sympathies were normally with the British, Jeanne did not deserve her fate, burned at the stake for supposed transgressions against the Church, when in truth, she was a fighter for France.

Perhaps more importantly, though, was the fact that she was no longer the King of the Britons. True, she could go and try to claim it, but the people of this time didn't need an absolute monarch like she was. The grandeur of the monarchy had faded somewhat, although given the information put into her head about the current queen, Arturia felt that Queen Elizabeth II was doing her job well.

The truth was, Arturia actually felt ambivalent about the whole thing. The part of her that was King Arthur was satisfied with her reign, if not how it ended. Another part, however, wanted to be able to redo her reign, wanting Camelot to exist long after her end. And another part recognised the futility of this. Merlin had rammed it into her head that time travel was a tricky bit of magic at best, even over short periods. Over centuries was virtually impossible.

And another part, in a way, felt relief. While she kept up her mask she wore as Arthur out of habit, some part of her was glad that the burden of kingship was no longer hers to bear. Oh, she was willing to fight against those who threatened her country, that would never go away, but to no longer need to be king…

Another bit of information came from what Merlin had put into her head. _Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown_, from the play _Henry IV_ by William Shakespeare. And it felt true. It wasn't that Arturia would abandon her responsibility to Britain…but she still felt, albeit a little shamefully, relief at no longer being king.

Still, she had to admit, the food she was eating was enjoyable, cooked by Dobby. Once she was done (hunger was the enemy, after all, and thanks to an overpowered magical core from her draconic heritage, she had a fast metabolism), she knew she would go and practise using her sword. Sal had told her that she could practise her swordplay to her heart's content in a training room that used golems…assuming it was still working.

To think, she would be reunited with her oldest friend, and perhaps her greatest, or at least one of her greatest. And after such a long and convoluted path too. He'd had a hard life in both lives. In his first life, he was discarded by his family as a bastard child. In his second, he was orphaned thanks to the whims of a deranged warlock, and had inadvertently become a celebrity. A status he had enjoyed until the realities of life set in.

Still…Merlin had taken some substantial liberties, Arturia reflected, looking down at the ring on her hand. She didn't like being bound in this way, without her consent, and while she would rather it be Sal than almost anyone else, it still chafed at her. It was a beautiful ring, though, she had to admit. It was like Avalon. Indeed, it had the same feel.

Then again, she'd always had feelings for Sal. They had been friends for a long time, and indeed, not counting her foster family, the dark-haired, lugubrious wizard boy had been her first. Their relationship hadn't been all smooth-sailing, admittedly, and she had to stifle a lot of her feelings for him when she became king. Not to mention that they argued about many things, including Mordred.

Mordred…there was something she regretted now. A ruthless part of her regretted not running her through when they first met. Another part bitterly regretted not reaching out to her child. If she had shown Mordred some sort of affection, even if she believed Mordred unworthy to be king, maybe Camlann may not have happened.

But her regrets regarding Sal were even greater. They could not have a relationship, what with her being a king. A king marrying a man, even though she was concealing her gender? Ha! Even these days, same-sex relationships were not viewed upon that kindly. At least those in the know looked the other way given her relationship with Guinevere, and while Arturia was friends with her, it was a marriage of political convenience, and they both knew her true love lay elsewhere. It made her somewhat hypocritical when she condemned Guinevere and Lancelot for their affair, knowing full well that the heart she had sealed behind the walls of a king's demeanour belonged to another, even if she had to deny it.

The door opened, and Mordred, clad in her usual attire under her armour, came in, only to notice Arturia. Her child had been avoiding her over the past day, and a part of Arturia was glad for it. "…Oh. You're here."

"Yes." Then, as an awkward silence threatened to descend, Arturia, on an impulse, indicated a seat next to her. "Please, Mordred, sit down."

Mordred opened her mouth to refuse, before seeming to think better of it, and sat down, Dobby bringing some food to her place as well. Mordred began eating rather ravenously. After a moment, swallowing a piece of chicken, Mordred asked, "How long has it been since we ate together, Father?"

"…Too long, even if we do not count our time in stasis. Actually…did we ever eat together, Mordred? You never took off your helmet in my presence until you told me of your heritage."

"…Ah, right," Mordred said, looking sheepish. "…So, this is like the first time, right?"

"Indeed."

Another awkward silence descended, and this time, it was Mordred who filled it. "Okay, I'm probably gonna regret asking, but…if Mother was a woman, and you're a woman, Father, how the actual fuck did I get conceived? I know I'm a Homunculus, but I know enough about magecraft that sperm's still needed."

Arturia felt the blush coming to her cheeks. Still, while immensely awkward and embarrassing, of all the things her child could have asked or discussed, it was at least something Arturia could speak of. "A King needs heirs. Guinevere was a woman as I was. Merlin got involved by turning me into a man, and my half-sister seduced me, using mesmerism to make me believe I was bedding Guinevere."

"…Okay, I figured something like that, but I needed to know," Mordred asked. "But how the fuck did people not notice you were a woman?"

"Partly wilful blindness, and partly a charm of Merlin's. A few knew that I was a woman, and they accepted me as a King. Guinevere, Lancelot, Kay, Ector, and a few others."

"Huh." Then, silence descended again, only for Mordred to break it before it got awkward…though her words were awkward themselves. "…You know, I can deal with that. What I can't deal with is that, well, you and Mother were half-siblings, right?"

"…Indeed."

"…That's gross."

"Indeed. Mordred…I did not hate you because you were Morgan's child. Many leal knights on the Round Table, such as Gawain, Gareth, and Agravain, were her children. But…never mind. I do not think we should speak of your rebellion or what it cost in lives. Sal wouldn't want us to fight, especially over a throne that is no longer ours."

"You got that right. Uncle Sal…if he was there, he could have stopped my rebellion," Mordred said morosely. "He always knew what to say. Though…while I knew he and Godric were feuding, I didn't know Godric went that far. Hell, he wanted to bed you?"

"He did," Arturia said, thinking back to their time in the village. "Godric was a third son of a large but relatively impoverished magical line. While he was courteous and even chivalric to me, he also bullied Sal, and Sal and I grew close as children. Given that we were both bastards of noble lines, even if I did not know of my father being Uther Pendragon at the time, we both felt like outcasts, even though Ector treated me like his own child, and Sal was a good friend. Godric was a brilliant wizard, but he was also an egotist. I merely thought him a bully who grew out of it, mostly, until he made his desires for me clear later in life, after he framed Sal."

"…So, I have to ask, did you love him? Sal, I mean."

Arturia was surprised at the question. Eventually, she said, "What we had, I thought, was teenage infatuation, and we had to put such things aside for our respective duties. But…we remained fond of each other. Sal being framed hurt us both. Mordred…yes. I did love him. I love him still. And he clearly loves you as a daughter, though you are of no relation."

It was strange, admitting it to the very person who rebelled against her, who brought her kingdom to ruin. And yet, with Sal not present, and Merlin's projection being absent, Mordred was all she had to talk to, unless one-sided conversations with Fou counted. And while her anger at Mordred was still there, it was tempered by the knowledge that they were both loved by the same man, even in different ways.

"Well…you got this second chance, right?" Mordred asked. "Father…I knew how unhappy you were on the throne. I never saw you smile once. And yet, after we woke up, I actually saw you smiling. Fuck, why the fuck did Camelot have to fall to have you actually act human, huh?"

Arturia nearly rebuked Mordred, but her angered words died on her lips. "…Why did we have to come back from the grave to have a remotely civil discussion with each other?" she retorted quietly.

Another heavy silence fell, broken only by the sound of chuckling and giggling. It wasn't exactly mirthful as much as cathartic. Both were laughing, and Arturia knew that she had never really laughed in the presence of another during her time as king, save for a few occasions. Mordred, meanwhile, was laughing at the absurdity herself. It helped relieve a little of the tension that had built up, which was better than nothing.

Once their laughter died away, Mordred summed things up succinctly. "Ahhh, this is so fucked up. And on top of all that, we have the effeminate cambion troll to thank for keeping us both alive. God, that makes this just one big bad joke. And we've still got to find Rhongomyniad, on top of everything else. I wonder who of all people could be in possession of it, though?"

"A descendent of mine, perhaps," Arturia mused, thinking back to the spear which, according to Merlin's teachings, was also a 'pin' of sorts. It kept the Reverse Side of the World apart from the rest of the world, and was a divine artifact. "And we still need to find Excalibur and Avalon…both Avalons."

Mordred scoffed. "Yeah, well, one thing I know for sure. This warlock who wants a piece of Uncle Sal, he won't know what's coming for him…"

**CHAPTER 4 ANNOTATIONS:**

**So, Arturia and Mordred have taken the first steps to reconciling. Awkward steps, true, but better than fighting, though that's because they value what Harry/Salazar would think if they came to blows. Well, it'd be Mordred that's the problem. Arturia is still pissed at what Mordred did, but she's considerably better at shelving her emotions and examining things relatively objectively. Not that that stopped her from fucking up before.**

**Sorry about the delay. I meant to do it yesterday evening, my time, 24 hours after the first chapters were posted, but the review system of this website decided to have a conniption.**

**Review-answering time! A number of you are confused. This actually doesn't take place either in the mainstream Nasuverse timeline (****_Fate/Stay Night_**** and ****_Fate/Zero_****), or the ****_Fate/Grand Order_**** timeline. Instead, it actually takes place a few months before the events of ****_Fate/Apocrypha_****. Because I advanced Harry's physical age a year, and the events of the Potterverse (which canonically take place in the 90s) by eleven years. Therefore, this story takes place in mid-2006. Darnic took the Greater Grail in 1936.**

**That being said, there's still some things that have taken place. Waver Velvet is still Lord El-Melloi II, and he has Grey as his student and sidekick. They have gone through at least some of the events detailed in ****_The Case Files of Lord El-Melloi II_****. Grey still hides her face, partly because she views it as a curse…and partly because Waver met a Saberface who traumatised him. We'll discuss who in a later chapter.**

**Sunwolf27****: Well…let's just say you'll get what you want in the next couple of chapters.**

**Simianpower****: That is why this is fanfic. Basically, for this story, the foundation of Hogwarts took place around the same time as Camelot.**

**Squadpunk 2 point 0****: Do you mean the scene from the Babylonia chapter from ****_Fate/Grand Order_****? It certainly ranks up there, and after watching a clip from the new anime, I actually think they didn't do it correctly.**

**1\. Harry actually uses the first Penalty Game Yami uses on Kaiba in the manga version of ****_Yu-Gi-Oh!_**** Yes, I said the manga version. The Mind Crush is used in the rematch at the end of the Death-T arc, which was the scene that was adapted for the anime.**


	6. Chapter 5: Reflections

**CHAPTER 5:**

**REFLECTIONS**

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he arrived in Gorgoneion Castle's entrance hall later that evening, bags of clothes in hand from a brief shopping spree he did after leaving the Dursley household. It was still standing, and there were no signs of any battle, and Dobby hadn't come to tell him that the women he cherished most in his first life had caused a fracas, so he was cautiously and uncharacteristically optimistic. Then again, he was in a really good mood. He'd put paid to the Dursleys for once and for all.

When he had arrived back at 4 Privet Drive, sending Hedwig on her way as he did so, he had used his magical senses, honed in his past life as Sal, to see what had been done to the place. If he was right about Dumbledore being a blinkered fool rather than a villain, then there had to be a protection here worth Harry coming back to. And almost instantly, he felt it. It was all he could do not to laugh bitterly, and have the Dursleys look askance at him.

Blood Wards! Keyed to Petunia no doubt. One of the most potent protections there was, and could only be derived partly thanks to his mother's sacrifice. But…there was something wrong with them. He couldn't tell whether it was accident or malice, but they were feeding off his magic more than they should have been. So there was a reason Dumbledore left him here, and a good one…if he was exchanging comfort and love for safety. It didn't make him any less angrier at the old fool, but he had to admit, there was still a possibility that Dumbledore was either a well-meaning fool, or else apathetic to Harry's suffering.

But he didn't intend to play by Dumbledore's rules any longer.

Before he left, he used Legilimency to look into the minds of his erstwhile family, and see what they thought. Vernon Dursley was beyond redemption. If Harry died, he would celebrate, and he would kill Harry himself if he wasn't afraid of getting caught. So too would Petunia, despite the small regrets she had. Harry was surprised to find remorse and a desire to change in Dudley, so he kept him out of his revenge, as much as he could. He intended to pay a certain bulldog breeding aunt a visit later, though.

He'd considered having Vernon kill Petunia and then himself, but he decided against it. Ria wouldn't forgive him if he did that. Instead, he tore through both their minds, destroying them entirely, leaving them alive, but vegetables, not unlike a Dementor's victims. He felt somewhat bad about that, but he needed an alibi. Dudley would later tell the authorities, both mundane and magical, that Harry had warned them about a terrorist targeting them, and Vernon had a stroke, and Petunia had a heart attack on seeing the body, shortly after Harry disappeared, either fleeing or abducted, he didn't know.

Ria wouldn't like what he did. She didn't like it when he waged a war of vendetta against his relatives in his first life. He killed his father, the one who had raped his mother. But she also had those hangups about honour and chivalry. He was the one who dirtied his hands to try and keep hers clean. Mordred wouldn't care. While she was more chivalrous than many would think, she was still a pragmatist.

As if on cue, Mordred walked into the atrium, still dressed in her rather skimpy clothes that she wore under her armour. "Oh, hey, finally, you're here, Uncle Sal."

"Yes. Haven't tried re-enacting Camlann yet?" he snarked.

She grimaced. "Look, we managed to talk a little. We both knew that fighting wouldn't make you happy, so…look, I kept the peace as best as I could, okay?"

"Thanks, Little Mordred," Harry said, walking over and hugging the young knight. "I know it must have been hard for both of you, and I asked a lot, but…"

"Mordred behaved herself well," Arturia said, entering the room, Fou trotting along behind her. "We…have spoken of some matters. While we have many issues to work out, we have agreed to…I believe the modern term is détente."

"Thanks, Ria," Harry said, smiling at her. "Now, we'll have dinner, and then, we'll head to London, see if we can find whoever has Rhongomyniad. We'll need to get you both some decent clothes. Ria, your stuff looks too old-fashioned, and Mordred, you need something a little more decent, or at least something that won't look out of place in this era. So, I took the liberty of getting some clothes. Thankfully, you're both about the same size. I got some nice dresses and a suit for you, Ria, and for Mordred, I got a number of modern clothes that'd be your style."

Arturia walked over, and checked one of the bags he had brought along. "You know our measurements?" she asked.

"Ria, I've known you for long enough that I know what clothes to get you. Besides, Helga used to drag me into being a tailor's dummy along with Ro'. I even learned adjustment spells from Helga," Harry said. "And you and Little Mordred are about the same size, except…" He trailed off. Arturia's bust was modest, to put it kindly, but Mordred's was much smaller. If she wore masculine clothes, she'd be better able to pass for a boy than Arturia. Which was strange, as Harry knew Morgan le Fay was…the modern term was 'stacked', he believed, and had been even when young, apparently.

Arturia, after a moment, decided on the suit, and took it away, though she also took the dress in the bag, giving him a smile and a quick mouthed word of gratitude. Mordred, meanwhile, was peering dubiously at the T-shirt. "What the fuck are the Rolling Stones, and what do they have to do with a gorilla poking its tongue out?"

"They're a musician band, Mordred. You'd probably like rock and roll music. One thing that has definitely improved from our time is music."

"Huh. Well, I'll go and try these out. Thanks, Uncle Sal." And with that, she left, with Harry alone in the foyer with Fou.

He walked over to the staircase, and sat down, the Beast trotting over and sitting down next to him. "I'm glad there wasn't any real trouble. I knew Arturia would swallow her pride and not cause anything, but Little Mordred has always been impulsive and hot-tempered," Harry said to Fou. "And then, there's the fact that Merlin dropped you off here. I know what you are, Fou, what you could become. So…are we good?"

Harry didn't really expect much of a reply, other than perhaps a nod or one of its animalistic exclamations. And yet, in a voice that, despite being high pitched and cute, held all the authority of the Beast he was, Fou said, "Better here than with that bastard Merlin. Though at least he gave you three another chance."

"Yeah. You know, it's freaky how your voice is like that, even knowing you're a Beast of Calamity," Harry said. "You're the textbook definition of not judging a book by its cover, Fou."

The Beast snickered, but didn't offer any further words. He did coo when Harry scratched him under the chin, though. "…Sorry you had to be trapped with the effeminate cambion troll for all this time, though. Must've been boring and/or aggravating."

Fou nodded. "…He does have an amusing side project, though. He knows about the internet, and has created a net idol website called Magi Mari to troll certain Magi," the Beast remarked.

"…That sounds right up his alley. The biggest troll in history has discovered the internet. Gods help us all."

"Actually, he's been in contact with a Dead Apostle who is actually the Wizard Marshall," Fou said. "Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, the current wielder of the Second True Magic…and he's as big a troll as Merlin, if not worse."

"…Oh shit," Harry muttered. If the wielder of Kaleidoscope was as big a troll as Merlin…well, that was problematic. Especially as, given how he was the Wizard Marshall, odds were that he was at Clock Tower…

* * *

Soon, Mordred and Arturia were back, the former dressed in jeans and a Rolling Stones T-Shirt, the latter in a rather severe suit that nonetheless looked good on her. Thus deeming this to be acceptable, the trio Apparated to London, and soon were near the Palace of Westminster. Harry had used a disguise on himself, just in case Aurors were around.

With his magical senses, he found what had to be one of the entrances to Clock Tower, and the three of them went up to a receptionist in a busy foyer. "Excuse me," Harry said. "I wish to speak to Lord El-Melloi II on a matter of some small urgency."

The man manning the desk looked up at him. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, I do not. The phrase 'some small urgency' suggests a lack of an appointment and a need to see him forthwith," Harry said, allowing some of his acid tongue from Salazar Slytherin to come forth.

The receptionist opened his mouth to retort, only for a thin, dark-haired man with handsome but aquiline features to make himself known. "I am Lord El-Melloi II."

Harry turned to him, and nodded. "Are you Waver Velvet, then?"

The man nodded. "Correct. I do not believe I know you, though…who are these two?" Recognition danced in his eyes upon seeing Arturia and Mordred, and some concern, even a little apprehension. "These two…they don't sing, do they?"

"As far as I know, I've only heard one of them singing, and, well…anyway the rest is a matter for private discussion, Waver.,"

"…I daresay it is. Very well, but I would ask that you do not cause trouble. Well, beyond what you seem about to cause anyway…"

* * *

They were soon taken to a well-appointed office, and Waver turned to look at them. Harry promptly removed his charm, and the young man blinked in surprise. "…Harry Potter? Of all the people to demand an audience with me, it's the Boy Who Lived?"

"It's complicated."

"I am sure it is," Waver remarked resignedly, before he looked at Arturia and Mordred. "…And these two?"

"…Arturia and Mordred Pendragon."

"I see. I should have known. You look like…never mind, I believe I can guess a little as to why you're here," the Magus said, showing rather little surprise for what he was told, going over to his desk, and pulling out a cigar. He also seemed relieved.

While Arturia frowned, Mordred asked, "Oi, why are you called Lord El-Melloi II?"

"It's a rather long story," Waver said. "The short version is, I'm a regent of sorts for the true lordship of El-Melloi, which belonged to my teacher, Kayneth Archibald. I survived a Holy Grail War. He didn't. The Archibalds held me somewhat responsible for his demise."

Harry frowned. "Holy Grail War?"

"Hmm, wizards generally don't know much about Magi affairs, especially those still going to Hogwarts. The Grail I speak of is not the biblical artifact you allegedly sought, Arturia, but rather, a Magus-created artifact that was designed to reach the Root, created by the von Einzbern, Tohsaka and Makiri families."

"…The Root? Do you mean Akasha?" Harry asked. "But to reach Akasha, you'd need an enormous amount of energy!"

"You know of Akasha? And you are correct. The Holy Grail War pits Heroic Spirits summoned as familiars using a limited form of the Third True Magic…"

"…Heaven's Feel…so the von Einzberns wanted to recover the Third True Magic that badly…figures," Harry muttered, facepalming.

"Heaven's Feel?" Mordred asked.

"The materialisation of the soul, amongst other things," Harry said. "It can bring back the dead, make people immortal with no catches, transfer souls between bodies…the von Einzberns could do a limited version in our time, but…"

"Our time?" Waver asked, catching Harry's slip, though Harry didn't really care about it. He needed to get this man onside as an ally if they needed to get Rhongomyniad back.

"It's a long story. So, you participated in one of these Holy Grail Wars?"

Waver nodded. "Correct. I came out alive if not unscathed, but my teacher did not. That being said, as the true Greater Grail was lost in the Thirties, apparently stolen by the Thule Society, that Grail War did not have as great a potential to reach Akasha, if it had any at all. But why are you here?"

"We were told by Merlin that one of your students was in possession of Rhongomyniad," Arturia said. "Mordred and I have only recently been revived, thanks to…Harry. Our purpose, then, was to either retrieve Rhongomyniad, or else come to an arrangement with its current owner."

"I see. Arturia, I have to warn you, that…" Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and it opened, to reveal a teenaged girl coming in. One in dark clothing with a short plaid skirt and a hooded jacket with the hood up. She was carrying a small birdcage, with a strange, cube-like object that seemed to have a face picked out in gold and lapis lazuli.

"Umm, Professor? Flat has been fooling about in the Saint Quartz experimentation laboratory in the geology section. He's caused something of a mess, and the head of…" Suddenly, she spotted Arturia and Mordred, and stopped short. And Harry saw her face beneath the hood, walking over, and gently removing it.

The hair colour was different, being a pale silver with a few golden streaks in it. So too were the eyes, pale aqua as opposed to the emerald orbs he knew. And the skin was deathly pale.

But there was no doubting it. The girl now staring at Arturia in horror like a deer in the headlights was almost a complete mirror image. A near-clone of Arturia…

**CHAPTER 5 ANNOTATIONS:**

**Oh dear. Grey has just met Arturia, and I don't think it will go down well.**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	7. Chapter 6: Shades of Grey

**CHAPTER 6:**

**SHADES OF GREY**

The awkward silence was broken by the warped, flanging, and maddeningly familiar voice that emanated from the birdcage. "_Add add add!_" it cackled. "_What's this? Why are there three Greys?_"

Harry looked at the thing in surprise. "…Did that damned thing speak like Sir Kay?" As the girl he was near began to sway, he helped her over to a couch. "It's okay, it's okay. What's your name?"

"…Grey…what is _she_ doing here?" she asked, her gaze towards Arturia accusatory.

"That, believe it or not, is King Arthur…and if I'm not mistaken, young lady, she is your ancestor. That is Mordred." As Grey began to hyperventilate, softly but noticeably, Harry looked at Waver. "…What the hell was done to her?"

"I too would like to know," Arturia said.

"It was _your_ fault," Grey said, glaring coldly at Arturia. "Your fault I was bred this way, gradually changing every morning in the mirror so that…"

"Grey," Waver said sharply. She looked at him. "I don't think she would have known. I believe that Arturia would even be horrified at what was done to you. So please, would you explain it, or should I?"

Grey shook her head. "You do it, Professor. You explain to her what they did to me so that they had another Arthur."

"I think I can guess," Harry said grimly, noting the bitterness in Grey's voice. "Eugenics, genetic engineering, magical tampering…they wanted another King Arthur. So desperate to have their Once and Future King back…you weren't just meant to be her clone, were you?"

"They wanted to use Grey as a vessel for Arthur's soul," Waver said softly. "I rescued her many years ago. And before you ask, those involved have been punished."

"Not enough, I reckon," Harry growled, his temper as Salazar Slytherin leaking to the fore.

"Sal…please," Arturia said quietly, as a magical aura flared into life around Harry, flickering like a flame. It disappeared when Harry heard her.

Grey's eyes flickered over to Arturia. "Why do you care?" she asked bleakly. "It was because of you. They wanted you, they…"

"Oi," Mordred interjected, glaring at Grey. "You've got Father's body and good looks. You should be grateful, you whiny little brat."

"But I don't want her face! It's not mine!" Grey exclaimed. "I can barely remember what my original face looked like anymore, because her face is taking over, and…and…" She began to weep quietly.

Harry gently hugged her, before indicating that Arturia and Mordred do the same. Grey stiffened as Arturia did so, and Mordred, albeit reluctantly, did so herself. "You are not her copy," Harry said quietly. "You are you. At best, you are as much her child as Mordred is. As far as I am concerned, you're part of the family."

"…I agree," Arturia said gently, her own eyes glistening suspiciously. "Grey, I cannot begin to imagine what pain you are going through, but I know what it is like to suffer due to high expectations made of one's self. I'm sorry you have lost your true face. I'm sorry you lost your chance for a normal life."

Mordred seemed about to make a remark, but Harry silenced her with a glare. Then they broke off, with Harry examining the birdcage and the cube-like creature within. "What the hell is this thing?"

"…Add," Grey said.

"It's a Mystic Code designed to put a seal on Rhongomyniad," Waver said. "Rhongomyniad's power was fading due to the influence of Gaia. They also gave it a pseudo-personality, and you are correct, it was apparently based on that of Sir Kay. But how did you recognise it?"

Harry grimaced. "Like I said, it's a long story. Maybe it's about time I told it…"

* * *

After their story was told, Waver smoked the cigar pensively, peering at Harry. After a moment, he nodded. "…Sad to say, I have heard, seen and experienced stranger things than a reincarnated Hogwarts Founder and the revived Arturia and Mordred Pendragon. After picking up Grey, I have become a student of Arthurian lore and history, particularly that hidden from most of the world, before it was corrupted by the chivalric romance writers like Mallory and his ilk."

"You believe us?" Mordred asked.

"Correct. Grey keeps her face hidden, partly because she hates it," Waver said. "She also has no known family, or at least those who resemble her. And truth be told, I received a warning from the Wizard Marshall that someone interesting with a link to Grey's heritage would be coming. The way I see it, if you aren't telling the truth, then you're one of Zelretch's pranks. In all likelihood, you are both. Telling the truth and being a prank, anyway."

Harry facepalmed, groaning. "The two greatest trolls in the world are acting as sounding boards for each other via the internet. The world is screwed."

"Yes, I would agree," Waver said dryly. "But if you came here for Rhongomyniad, will you take it from Grey?"

"No, I will not," Arturia said quietly. "Not without her permission. I assume Rhongomyniad finds her worthy of wielding it?"

"…I can wield it. I have even used it in battle," Grey said quietly. "There was the case of Ernest Fargo we investigated recently, and there have been others."

"Correct," Waver said. "It's possible that Merlin sent you my way because I do have some experience with dealing with Arthurian relics. You are looking for Avalon, both the island and the Noble Phantasm, as well as Excalibur."

"I intended to start in Glastonbury for those," Harry said. "But Avalon is currently out of reach. The island, I mean. And there's no knowing where the sheath or Excalibur are currently, not with Merlin being maddeningly vague if he isn't ignorant about where they are. Even Point Me spells only work within a certain range, and not if they're shielded."

"And there's other things to consider," Waver said. "If what you said is true, Voldemort is back from the grave as well, assuming he truly left this mortal coil. Grey mentioned Ernest Fargo, who used a ritual to bind his very soul to his manor, using it as a phylactery to become immortal. Grey used Add to deal with him."

"_Add add add!_" Add cackled. "_That was a lovely banquet! What a smorgasbord! Very tasty!_"

"We're sure Voldemort has created multiple phylacteries of a vile sort known as the Horcrux," Harry said. "We're talking about a ritual even the average Sealing Designee wouldn't consider usually."

"…I find that hard to believe," Waver said. "Many Magi would go to great lengths to obtain immortality. In the aftermath of the Third Holy Grail War, it was discovered that Zouken Matou used Crest Worms to become immortal."

Harry and the Pendragons stared at Waver flatly. "…Crest Worms," Arturia said flatly. "Someone used those vile things to achieve immortality?"

"Correct, and he was one of the founding Magi of the Grail War, back when he was the Russian Magus Zolgen Makiri."

"…Professor, what are Crest Worms?" Grey asked.

Arturia looked sharply at her descendant. "Grey, let me tell you something. There are times when you will wish you had treasured your ignorance of certain matters when you learned the truth. This is one of them. I pray you never learn about them."

Grey looked to Waver for confirmation, who nodded. Mordred, meanwhile, was grimacing. "_Crest Worms_…you know something's bad news when _Morgan le Fay_ refuses to use them for anything but potion ingredients out of disgust."

"Unfortunately, the ritual for Horcruxes is not much below that of Crest Worms in terms of disgustingness and immorality," Harry said. "Plus, you've got to kill someone in cold blood to fracture your soul after it's been prepared by the ritual, and then place it in a phylactery. I've read Herpo the Foul's writings on the matter after tracking them down. Back in the time of Camelot, anyway."

Waver nodded. "Sad to say, Clock Tower would probably not get involved unless Voldemort directly threatened them. Magi and wizards don't have the best of histories. Many Magi see the wizards as overly privileged fools who waste magical ability that doesn't draw as much attention from Gaia, while many wizards see Magi as amoral monsters with comparatively weak magic. Both are collectively snobbish xenophobic groups who wouldn't care if their rivals died off, and the sane in power are few and far between. Self-interest governs all."

"Of course it does," Harry said bitterly. "Chivalry may not be dead, but it's doing pretty damned poorly." He then returned his attention to Grey. "Grey." The silver-haired doppelganger of the woman he loved looked to him. "You hate Arturia, don't you? But…"

"But I despise what they did to you, Grey," Arturia said. "While I admit that I was groomed to go down the path of becoming King of the Britons…the final choice was mine alone. But while your original face was taken from you…you can still choose to be yourself, something great. Rhongomyniad would not have chosen someone unworthy to wield it. What does that say about you, then, that you can?"

Grey looked at Arturia, startled. They could have been sisters, just like Arturia and Mordred could have been. And the resentment that lingered in Grey's eyes began to leach away. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"…I have made many mistakes during my reign," Arturia said, shooting Mordred a look briefly. "I have many regrets. Many may have been averted if I reflected on others' feelings, and my own. Tristain once told me as he departed that the King does not understand human feelings. A cruel barb, but one with some truth. I may be a king no longer, but I am still a knight. So too is Mordred, and if nothing else, I will trust in her blade by my side, for Sal's sake. And knights help those in need."

"So why don't we bring her with us?" Mordred asked. On their looks, she said, "What? She's got Rhongomyniad, less of a chip on her shoulder, and if what Lord El-Melloi here said is right…"

"I'm Lord El-Melloi II. The 'second' part is important," Waver interjected irritably.

"Nobody cares," Mordred retorted.

"Mordred, do not demean the scholar, please," Arturia said. "He reminds me of Sal."

"Yeah, but Uncle Sal was all kinds of badass."

"He is also the father figure to Grey, one who has clearly gone to great lengths to see her as something other than my effigy. And if he is her guardian…then he will know that we are bringing her into a potentially dangerous, possibly lethal situation."

"So? I've been fighting since I was old enough to wield a fucking sword!" Mordred retorted. "And even if she looks like a wimpy knockoff of you…well, she's worthy of Rhongomyniad, like you said. Look, if the likes of Gareth or that pussy Bedivere can get onto the Round Table, then she can. Besides…why do you care? I was only a kid, and it didn't stop you from running me through with Rhongomyniad."

"You'd destroyed my kingdom, Mordred, out of petty spite and a misplaced desire for acknowledgement," Arturia said coldly. "Not only that, but you were a seasoned warrior, despite your youth. Your ability as a king may be in question, but your ability in a warrior is not."

As Mordred bristled, Harry interjected. "Ria is right, Mordred. It is up to Grey and Waver. You don't mind if I call you Waver?"

"Of course not. Would you prefer Harry or Salazar or Sal?"

"Harry will do."

As Mordred shot Harry a glare, he said, "Look at it this way. If she does agree to come along, think of her as your squire and your little sister. Someone to protect and fight alongside."

This stopped Mordred short, and she blinked. Arturia seized on this. "Tis a good thing, Mordred. As I said, your ability as a warrior is without reproach, your…_flexible_ attitude to chivalry aside. And you protected others well before your rebellion."

Mordred blinked, before she turned to Grey, a thoughtful look in her eyes. Grey looked over to Waver. "Professor…should I go with them?"

"Not without me. Thankfully, I am between terms for now, and there's no business I have to deal with for…Reines. Grey, what condition is Flat currently in?"

"He's been hospitalised. He should be fine within a week."

Waver seemed to sigh in relief. "And Svin is working on that assignment with Sakura Edelfelt that Rocco Belfeban gave them on the history of the Holy Grail War. It may not be the best time to gallivant off, what with the rumours coming out of Romania about the Yggdmillennia clan, as well as one of the Grails from one of the Auxiliary Grail Wars being stolen, but I believe I can spare a week, once I check up on Flat. What that idiot was doing in the Saint Quartz lab is beyond me…"

"He was gushing about some sort of dream about using them in a Servant summoning circle and summoning a lot of powerful Servants, said it was like a gacha or something," Grey said.

"Sounds like a nightmare," Waver said, his expression deadpan.

"…Gacha?" Arturia asked.

"It's Japanese for a lottery machine, like those used to dispense figurines," Waver explained. "Flat is…eccentric, to say the least. In any case, Grey, are you willing to go with these people, as long as I accompany you?"

Grey looked around, a bit uncertainly, until she caught Harry and Arturia smiling at her reassuringly. Eventually, she nodded. "Yes, Professor…"

* * *

"_For the origin, silver and steel. For the cornerstone, gem and the Archduke of Contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Morgause_. _The alighted wind becomes a wall. Close the gates in the four directions. From the crown, come forth. Trace the three-forked road leading to the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat fivefold, and when each is filled, destroy it_."

The hooded figure smirked as she finished preparing the ritual circle. While the Greater Grail had been lost, facsimiles had been created. And she had managed to obtain one. While lesser than the real thing, it would suffice to summon Servants, not to prime the Grail as a route to Akasha, but to act as her fighters. And she had the very ones in mind. Or rather, she and her partner in crime did.

"Yes. And I have the appropriate catalyst." She looked at a fragment of a sword on a nearby altar, one which once had the power to slay dragons. Then, pumping her magic into the ritual circle, she roared, "_Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! But let thine eyes be clouded with the fog of turmoil and chaos. Thou, who art trapped in a cage of madness, and I, the summoner, holds thy chains! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_"

The circle flared with actinic white light, and when it faded…there was a figure wreathed in pitch black smoke, or perhaps it was mist. It looked vaguely like an armoured knight, but it was impossible to tell who it was. But the hooded woman grinned. _Perfect_, she thought…

**CHAPTER 6 ANNOTATIONS:**

**Well, that's bloody ominous. And Grey and Arturia's first meeting…could have gone better, but it could have been worse. That's why Grey may seem OOC here. She's just been confronted with a manifestation of the reason her life was fucked over, hence her anger. Thankfully, Arturia and Harry/Salazar were there to smooth things over…**

**Review-answering time! ****AnimeGoji91****: While your praise for my stories is fine, stop demanding that I write stories according to your ideas! That is why I kept deleting any reviews where you do so! I make it very clear on my profile that I will not accept unsolicited story ideas, so STOP DOING THAT!**

**WearyCurmudgeon****: 'Leal' is an old-fashioned term for 'loyal', which George RR Martin has used in ****_A Song of Ice and Fire_****, or at least the spinoff works ****_A World of Ice and Fire_**** and ****_Fire and Blood_****. While mostly used in Scotland these days, it comes from Old English, and while Arturia would probably be using Celtic or whatever they spoke in her time, her knowledge of modern language was implanted by a certain effeminate cambion troll. Now, I'll be coy for now about the villains, but one of them actually attained immortality in a very different way. The other…well, she did so through means other than a Horcrux.**

**Darnic's method of immortality does have its drawbacks. It erodes his identity to a degree, something he himself admits, and the ritual must be done perfectly, or it will actually kill the user outright. It also only protects him against age, not dying due to injury or malice, whereas Horcruxes do.**

**Arturia never actually fell for Godric. At best, she considered him a loyal subject, and it was only when his treachery was exposed and he tried to force her to wed him that she realised how cruel he was. She still held a torch for Sal, as much as his supposed betrayal hurt her. However, the parallels are there, and, well, let's just say that in one of the original versions of this story, the irony of you comparing Godric to James Potter would have abounded. **

**'Sal' never truly lost himself to darkness, though. While he was something of a pragmatist, and more than willing to kill if it suited his purpose, a bit like Kiritsugu Emiya, he also viewed the Dark Arts as a tool and had a number of standards (no killing innocents, no human sacrifice unless it was of hardened criminals, etc), and there were many lines he refused to cross. One of his nephews (as in DaSalvatore's ****_Rebirth of the Founders_****) was the one who took his name and ran it into the ground, albeit with the indirect approval of Godric. However, he did do many questionable things to keep Arturia safe, like assassinations and the like, which did rankle with her love of chivalry.**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	8. Chapter 7: Berserker

**CHAPTER 7:**

**BERSERKER**

The two conspirators sat on the edge of the roof of the ruined tower of St Michael's Church, on Glastonbury Tor, watching the tourists disperse from the Bounded Field they had set up. "The effrontery of these Christians, building this church on this sacred land," huffed the woman. "I don't know what is worse, that, or the greed of Henry VIII when he had this place demolished."

The man rolled his eyes. "And now, it's a tourist trap for Muggles, who venerate her like they knew who she really was. They can't even get her gender right," he sneered.

"She obfuscated her gender with that damned cambion's help, as you well know," the woman retorted. "Only the pair of us, Sal, her adopted family, Merlin, and a few others knew the truth. Otherwise, she could just pass off anything with the voice to have something to do with being a perpetually youthful boy whose balls hadn't dropped. However, neither of us can remember exactly where her artifacts are. Avalon, Excalibur, and Rhongomyniad. Any search that she makes for them is likely to start here, if only because this is familiar territory for her."

"Familiar?" the man asked in an incredulous tone, gesturing towards Glastonbury in the distance. "Have you seen the inhabitants? What they consider a New Age culture? Pitiful. Still…this ought to be a fitting proving ground for our hound."

"Hound? Don't be so derogatory. He is more…a _Servant_…"

* * *

"I hate wizard travel," grimaced Waver, his hands on his knees after the effects of the Portkey wore off.

Grey nodded silently, but Add cackled. "_Add add add! Where's your sense of adventure? That was fun!_"

"Yeah, but that's because you're a demented hobgoblin of a Mystic Code modelled on one of the more eccentric Knights of the Round Table," Harry snarked.

"_Hobgoblin? How dare you, you half-baked reincarnation?!_"

"You overblown nappy pin(1)!"

"NAPPY PIN?!" Add and Arturia snapped simultaneously.

"Yes! Rhongomyniad pins down the Reverse Side of the World, thus ensuring shit doesn't leak out and splatter itself all over the world. Nappy pin," Harry explained triumphantly. "The shit he talks is the shit leaking out."

Waver just looked at him with a deadpan look, while Arturia looked aghast and annoyed. Mordred was openly laughing, clutching her stomach, while Grey looked torn between giggling and mortification. "You just called one of the most cherished relics in the Moonlit World, a Divine Construct that is a necessary part of the world as we know it, _a nappy pin_," Waver said flatly.

"People kept calling it a spear, and yet that's about as accurate as calling it a nappy pin, if not less so," Harry said unrepentantly.

"Sal, as your king, I command that you stop calling it a nappy pin," Arturia said.

"…Ria, we have got to work on your sense of humour. Hey, Waver, I don't suppose you have a DVD of _Monty Python and the Holy Grail?_"

"…Please tell me you aren't going to make her watch that. I like it and all, but do you think it would be in bad taste to show Arturia that?"

"Nope."

"Hey, enough chat," Mordred said, looking around. "So, where are we? Is this Glastonbury?"

Harry looked around, and nodded. They'd taken a Portkey, ensuring that their arrival wouldn't be noticed, even by any tourists. "Many people think this is where Camelot was, and while that wasn't actually the case, it's not far from here. However, the Tower of Avalon was here, the one which Merlin was imprisoned in."

Grey looked around. "Where is it?" she asked.

"It's out of sync with normal time and space, on top of being on the Reverse Side of the World," Harry explained. "Think of it as being perpetually a minute ahead into the future. Even Merlin can't break free of that easily. At best, he can project a sort of solid hologram, albeit one with enough power to influence things. Still, this is a good place to start looking. I don't know whether Camelot has the same enchantment or whether it's under some variant of the Fidelius."

"At least we won't look too conspicuous. Oi, Uncle Sal, what if we run into any other wizards?" Mordred asked.

"As long as they aren't firing spells at us, let me do the talking. Unless they're Death Eaters. In which case, just wait long enough for me to erect Notice Me Nots before going nuts, Little Mordred. Still…are you feeling what I'm feeling?"

"…Yes," Arturia said. "I feel…bloodlust and killing intent. It's close. And something…familiar about it."

"And there's something odd. There should be more tourists," Waver observed. "In fact, they appear to be almost entirely absent."

"Exactly," Harry said. "I shouldn't need to say this, but stay alert. I think there's a ward, a Bounded Field, set into place here. It's very subtle, I very nearly didn't notice it, which means whoever did this was damned good."

By this point, they were closer to the abbey ruins. Arturia seemed drawn, though, to an area within the ruins, and looked at the sign over a grave, her expression pensive. "…It claims that both Guinevere and I were buried here," she said. "…I wonder where she truly was buried."

"According to the legends, she ended up at a convent, and stayed there, even after Camlann," Harry said. "I honestly don't know."

"…Then I hope she is at peace. We…loved each other, insomuch as we could given our situation, but it was a political marriage, meant to solidify my image as King of the Britons. As much as she hurt me with her affair with Lancelot…in hindsight, I can understand why. In truth, I was something of a hypocrite, for I too desired another, but was bound by duty to her. And she knew this. She knew you and I were childhood friends, Sal."

"Hmm. I was already exiled to France at the time," Harry mused. "I remember when Lancelot arrived. He was tearing himself up on the inside at what he had done. He'd harboured thoughts for Guinevere for a long time, but hadn't acted upon them until later. He was not the first man to bring strife to a kingdom because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants, and he wasn't the last by a long shot."

"Sal, that was in poor taste," Arturia chided him.

"But not inaccurate, though," Mordred said.

Waver cleared his throat pointedly. "I didn't come all this way to discuss the sex lives of the Knights of the Round Table, and I'm sure Grey doesn't want to hear it either."

"_You should have seen her when this killjoy gave her The Talk! Redder than a tomato, she was!_" Add cackled, only to screech when Grey began swinging the cage he was in around, rattling the Mystic Code.

Harry gently put a hand on Arturia's shoulder. "Do you need a moment?"

"…Please."

As she looked at the grave marker, Harry looked around, his thoughts (that weren't focused on finding who or what was the source of that killing intent) drifted to Guinevere. Even though Guinevere was one of Arturia's closest friends and a good ruler in her own right, she was also crushed under similar expectations that Arturia shouldered, though Arturia shouldered greater burdens. Harry reckoned, for all her faults and those of Lancelot's in their affair, Agravain had much to blame. That misogynistic prick despised Guinevere, considering her to have the frailties and malice of a woman. He needled her at times, and Harry was sure the bastard was gleeful when he found evidence of an affair between Guinevere and Lancelot.

Unbidden, Arturia said, quietly, "If I could have, I would have wished them happiness together. Guinevere was not as happy as she could have been with me. Our marriage was a political one after all."

"Did you love each other?" Grey asked.

"In our own fashion. She was very understanding of our situation, and she knew my gender, as did Lancelot. We were closer to good friends than loving spouses, though," Arturia said. She turned to Grey. "She would have loved you, Grey."

"But not me," Mordred scowled. "I was your bastard child, after all."

"Conceived because Morgan seduced me using hypnotism, Mordred," Arturia said, rounding on Mordred. "You were effectively a child by rape. But if we did not have the pressures of rule, I would like to believe that she would have accepted you in time."

"But do you?" Mordred asked, bitterly.

"Mordred, I will never deny that you are my child, only my heir, and in any case, what is there to be heir to anymore?"

"You know, I don't think it was because you thought me unworthy of being a king," Mordred sneered. "I just think you never wanted to give up the throne at all, because you couldn't trust anyone else to do it. The Once and Future King, they call you these days, as if you'd last forever. Well, that's a load of horseshit right there, and…" Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she grabbed Waver and Grey under her arms, an impressive feat for the young knight, and dived away. Harry and Arturia were doing the same, having sensed the sudden spike of killing intent and bloodlust that heralded the attack.

Something hit the ground in front of the grave marker, cratering it, clods of soil and turf sailing into the air. That something soon stood from where it landed, kneeling. Harry stared at the apparition before them, not knowing what he was actually seeing.

Oh, he knew what it looked like. It was a figure in full plate armour, black as pitch, a strong crimson glow emanating from its visor. But it seemed to be wreathed in a strange eldritch smog, a black mist that purled and writhed around it like a living thing.

Waver's eyes opened as he got to his feet. "Oh no…all of you, we need to get out of here."

"What's wrong, Professor?" Grey asked. "Do you recognise him?"

"No, but I recognise this sensation. This thing is a Servant. And I'm willing to bet I know what class."

"What the fuck do you mean by that?!" Mordred demanded, as the armoured figure stared them down, though it seemed to be tense, even quivering.

Suddenly, it convulsed, tentacle-like tassels bursting from its back, and it unleashed a flanging, warbling howl to the sky. It grabbed the sign that was once part of the grave marker, and swung it at Mordred. The thought of a flimsy sign doing anything to hurt her was laughable, and yet, she flew into a nearby wall, cratering it.

"…It's a Berserker Servant," Waver concluded, his calm tone holding an undercurrent of fear. "One that trades sanity for strength. And yet…it used that sign to bat Mordred away…"

The Berserker lunged at Arturia, and she used Caliburn to block it. But the sign, astonishingly, wasn't cut. Given that Caliburn was a top notch weapon, this was surprising. Harry fired a Banishing Charm at the Berserker, and that, thankfully, sent the armoured figure flying…right into Clarent, where Mordred held it just right for the Berserker to be impaled on it. "Okay, what the fuck?!" Mordred snarled. "How the fuck did this bastard send me flying with a damned signpost?!"

As the belligerent knight kicked the Berserker off Clarent, before going on the attack, her armour appearing, Arturia joining her (her own armour appearing), Waver pinched the bridge of his nose. "…It must be a Noble Phantasm, something related to its myth. Anything it holds in its hands must become a low-grade Noble Phantasm at the bare minimum. I'm sure that's what my king would say."

"Your king?" Harry asked.

"The Rider Servant I summoned in the Holy Grail War. Iskandar, better known as Alexander the Great," Waver said. "I have to say, despite their animosity, Arturia and Mordred are fighting well together."

Harry nodded, watching. The Berserker had the edge in raw strength and attack speed, but both Arturia and Mordred were considerably more agile, dodging its attacks. "They fought side by side before Morgan told Mordred of her heritage. Though…that Berserker…it's like I know that fighting style. Even though it's wild, the Berserker is fighting with skill. Skill I've seen." As Mordred reeled from one blow to her helmet, and Arturia felt the pressure, Harry snapped off another Banishing Charm, sending the knight flying into the wall.

"Ria! Mordred! Does anything about that thing's style seem familiar to you?" Harry called out. "I'm getting a massive sense of déjà vu!"

"I know, but…" The figure staggered away from the wall…until it collapsed, disappearing in a puff of dark smoke. "…Did we vanquish it?" Arturia asked.

"I doubt it," Waver said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "One problem with Berserkers is that they are mana-intensive, more so than other Servants. And I have seen Servants die. They disappear with distinctive golden flecks of mana from their Spiritron bodies dissolving. This is a probing attack. Whoever sicced Berserker on you wished to test your strength and abilities. If need be, they could have had it fight to the bloody end, using Command Seals to boost their power."

"Waver…you said someone had stolen one of the Grails used in an Auxiliary Grail War, didn't you?" Harry said, with a chill running down his spine.

"Correct, and yes, I am coming to a similar conclusion that I don't like at all. It was effectively a failure, unable to even make much of an ingress to Akasha, though it was capable of summoning Servants. Its theft was concerning, but not as much. Except Servants can make very powerful soldiers. However, the power consumption is mind-boggling. A convergence of leylines are needed to fuel them properly."

Harry nodded, even as he absentmindedly sent Repair Charms around the area, making the area look more or less immaculate again. "Which isn't saying much. There's plenty of such places around Britain. We built Hogwarts on one, this place is on another, and you have them at a number of the stone circles, including Stonehenge and the Rollright Stones(2)."

"The Bounded Field is gone. Tourists will be back," Waver observed. "Arturia, Mordred, change back into mufti, please."

"You're not my father," Mordred scoffed, though she changed back to her modern clothes, as did Arturia. She then frowned as she noticed something. "Hey, someone's approaching."

Harry and the others whirled to face the newcomer, only for Waver to say, "It's okay, I know this man. He's a mercenary who has worked with Clock Tower before."

The man was burly, wearing a leather jacket and an ensemble that made him look like a biker or a bounty hunter. His leonine features, scarred around his right eye, only served to heighten this impression, with his eyes hidden behind sunglasses, and a beard adding to his lion-like air. "Lord El-Melloi," he greeted.

"Lord El-Melloi II," Waver corrected. "What are you doing here?"

"I was raiding the grave of a local Magus who died not long ago for materials. Don't worry, I was given permission, he was virtually a Sealing Designee. The Wizard Marshall called, said you might need me," the man said. "Didn't think you'd be in the company of the Boy Who Lived and a couple of lookalikes to that student of yours."

"And you are?" Harry asked.

"The name's Kairi Sisigou. And I'm guessing this situation is what they call in the industry a major clusterfuck…"

**CHAPTER 7 ANNOTATIONS:**

**Well…the motley crew have survived an initial encounter against a familiar Berserker…well, familiar to those who have watched ****_Fate/Zero_****. And there's another familiar face.**

**Review-answering time! ****Sondowth****: I have plans for one of those two to be a reincarnation, but not of a Founder or a canonical Nasuverse or Arthurian mythos character.**

**1\. While this was a joke I thought of on the fly, I realised that I was probably thinking subconsciously of LuBu081 (formerly LuBaneNa) and their fic ****_Ascension of the Tyrant King_****, where Arturia's Lancer Alter self adopts Harry after a series of mishaps. She uses Rhongomyniad as a nappy pin, more or less. No, really. Admittedly, that is while changing Harry's nappy, but still…**

**2\. Now, you guys will have heard of Stonehenge, but I doubt anyone outside the UK (or even some inside the UK) have heard of the Rollright Stones. I used them as an example because they were used as the location for the ****_Doctor Who_**** story ****_The Stones of Blood_****.**


	9. Chapter 8: The Sword of Promised Victory

**CHAPTER 8:**

**THE SWORD OF PROMISED VICTORY**

The hooded man scowled. "Looks like the rabid dog was a failure."

"Not exactly. Servants are basically low-quality Xeroxes of Heroic Spirits," the hooded woman pointed out. "The original heroes are generally stronger. It seems that neither of them has lost too much of their strength. Besides, I deliberately kept the mana flow to Berserker to a minimum to reduce his own attributes. I didn't want him to kill them. This was merely an attempt to gauge their strength."

"It's best you don't give Berserker too much power anyway. I'm sure he despises having you as the one holding his leash."

"He's obsessed with gaining his own kind of penitence, finding expurgation through combat. Fitting for someone who thought with his sword when he wasn't thinking with his penis," the woman scoffed.

"That hooded girl with them…why does she look so much like her?"

"She's the product of a breeding program, one in a village not that far from Glastonbury, actually. I decided to let those fools try, just in case they succeeded. Then, I could have presented her to you as a gift."

"How nice of you. Still…you can sense it too, from the girl…she's got Rhongomyniad with her."

"Hmm. That could actually be a problem. If she actually used it, it could certainly deal with a Servant very handily, even if she could only release some of the seals."

"Seals?"

"Rhongomyniad has seals corresponding to the Knights of the Round Table that place certain limits on its power. So too does Excalibur, though to a lesser degree, and it can still be wielded with considerable power without them. But unless at least half the seals are released, Rhongomyniad cannot be unleashed properly. I only know some of the seals, and some of the knights."

"And they are?"

"Bedivere's seal is that it must be released in a battle against a more powerful foe than the wielder, which shouldn't be difficult for a little slip of a girl like her. Palamedes' seal can only be released if it is a one-on-one battle. Lancelot's seal can only be released if the user is not facing an Elemental, like the Fae or True Ancestors. Mordred…" The hooded woman scoffed. "Her seal can only be released when facing an evil foe. Galahad's seal can only be released when the battle is not for personal gain. Agravain's seal can only be released in a battle for truth."

"That coming from a man who dealt with shadows and lies?" The hooded man scoffed derisively. "Hypocrite."

"Agreed. And he was a misogynistic little brat following a female king. I was scrying the situation when he exposed Lancelot's infidelity, and I loved the look on his face when he learned Arturia's true gender…before he got killed for his troubles. Anyway, Kay's seal will be released if it's a battle for life, and Arturia's seal is released if it's a battle to save the world. There're other seals, and I'm sure Gareth made one, but I don't know them all. I'm surprised you didn't know about this."

"I had other things to study, more important things than how a self-important group of knights put shackles on Divine Constructs," the hooded man retorted. "As for that man, the one they came across…something about him worries me."

"Kairi Sisigou," the woman said. "American-raised, but the family comes from Japan. They romanized their surname slightly from 'Shishigou'. Their family line are a bunch of necromancers, their Magic Crest tainted by a curse due to them making a somewhat literal deal with the Devil…well, a devil."

"A necromancer," sneered the man.

"And a capable one too. He's a mercenary Magus, and it's said that he's a possible successor, if only in reputation, to Kiritsugu Emiya, the Magus Killer. That one is a scary one, and I'm glad he's semi-retired. Anyway, I think the time shall soon come for us to implement our plan. With Salazar awake, our plan actually becomes a little more simple. We can ensure our long overdue ascendancy."

"Remember, I want her. I've been waiting so long for her. I knew that damned cambion had her hidden away where I couldn't find her."

"And Mordred?"

"…I'll kill her. But not before I take my time with her. You're fine with that?"

"She's a tool that has served its purpose. Her use now is minimal. At best, I can use her to sow discord in their camp, but I doubt she'll be as effective. She's too eager to earn Arturia's approval, and keep our mutual friend happy."

"Friend? You have a strange idea of what constitutes a friend."

_Hypocrite_, thought the hooded woman. Like he was one to talk…

* * *

Harry frowned as he used the Point Me spell. Avalon was inconclusive, but Excalibur produced some small response. Not much, but one he could track. As he did so, Kairi was brought up to speed by Waver. "Right, tricky situation, even if it's pretty damned unbelievable. We need to find Avalon, the sheath of Excalibur, and Excalibur itself. Plus, you had someone throw a Servant at you."

"Correct," Waver said. "But Harry, correct me if I'm wrong, but are we looking in the right place? If my knowledge of Arthurian myth serves me correctly, Excalibur was returned by Bedivere to the Lady of the Lake, not far from presumably Camlann. Are we near Camlann?"

"Nearer than you'd think," Harry said. "Same for the so-called Lake. The River Brue was once part of the Lake, just south of Glastonbury. However, if it were that easy, I'd be getting a stronger response from the River Brue, enchantments or not. I'm not. It's possible that someone has taken Excalibur for themselves, but I think it's more likely that Lady Vivian has taken Excalibur elsewhere for safe keeping. If someone like Morgan managed to get a hold of Excalibur…it'd be a disaster."

"How bad are we talking?" Kairi asked. "I know Excalibur's meant to be a powerful sword and all, but how powerful are we talking? Can it kill an army? Maybe nuke a city or a mountain?"

"With enough energy, it could wipe out the entirety of Glastonbury," Arturia said solemnly. "It could certainly destroy a warded castle like Hogwarts."

Harry nodded. "I studied the lore with Ro' and Merlin. Excalibur is millennia old, a Divine Construct used to fell the White Titan Sephyr." On their confused looks, Harry said, "Sephyr was an alien entity that was responsible for the destruction of a number of civilisations like Atlantis and Lemuria about fourteen millennia ago. According to Merlin, Sephyr's rampage marked the beginning of the decline of the Age of Gods, even if it took until the AD period to fully end. The weird thing is, according to Merlin, something of Sephyr survived, and was found about a century before our time."

"Wouldn't we have known it?" Mordred asked.

"We did. That fragment of Sephyr became known as Attila the Hun," Harry said, enjoying the dumbfounded looks on their faces. "Anyway, heading to the River Brue is probably a good place to begin searching for Excalibur at least, if only because some remnant of Vivian may remain for us to speak with. And if not…well, we'll improvise."

"Even so, we must stay alert," Arturia said. "The enemy has summoned at least one Servant. The enemy could send more after us. In addition, Harry's absence from his home will have been noticed by now, and it may be that Dumbledore sends people after him."

"To say nothing of Death Eaters," Waver scowled. "Kairi, what armaments do you have with you?"

"The usual loadout," Kairi said, pulling a sawn-off shotgun from his jacket. "Probably do nothing against a Servant, but against a wizard? This baby fires enchanted thumbs that home in on enemies, and is basically like a Gandr curse, only more invariably lethal. I've also got some heart grenades."

"Heart grenades?" Grey asked.

"Hearts of Magi, converted into a kind of biological weapon. They explode, and if the fumes don't get you, the teeth shrapnel containing curses will," Kairi said. "Nasty, but effective."

"Pragmatic too," Harry noted. "Most necromancers I knew were into trying to create undead like Inferi, or else revive the dead. You seem to put your skills to a more creative and yet pragmatic use."

"Still gross, though," Mordred muttered.

* * *

The sextet made their way down the hill, heading towards the River Brue. But their earlier encounter with the Berserker Servant had them a bit more wary than before. Still, they filled the time talking. Well, Harry, Waver, Mordred and Kairi did, anyway. Arturia was staying alert, and Grey was seeming somewhat shy, so they didn't speak as much.

"So, you basically act as a consulting detective for Magi?" Harry asked Waver.

"Correct. Of course, we have the Enforcers for dealing with our laws, and the Aurors on occasion when they want to cooperate. Madam Bones is a reasonable head of your DMLE, but her hands are tied thanks to Fudge's cutbacks, and many Aurors don't like Magi anyway. I certainly found myself curious about Sirius Black's case, and I'm convinced that the case was handled very sloppily at the very least. Certainly, there are few destructive spells that would cause as much damage as the one Black supposedly used that left only a single finger of Pettigrew. You said earlier that Black is innocent, and I'm hardly surprised. Kangaroo courts seem to be a common feature of both magical societies."

"So does labyrinthine politics," Kairi snarked. "Why do you think I do mercenary work? It's at least interesting, and better than being stuck in a Workshop. Then again, I saw some weird stuff the last time I was with you, Velvet, during that mess with the Codringtons."

"What weird stuff?" Mordred asked.

"The Wild Hunt, for one," Grey said, grimacing.

"Wow. That's still going on in this time," Harry said in flat surprise. "I thought most of the Fae had buggered off to the Reverse Side of the World, their servitors aside."

"It's a long story, and we don't have time to recount it," Waver said. "However, Grey used Rhongomyniad to try and close a portal to the realm of the Fae, as well as destroy some artificially-created Black Dogs."

It was not long after that that they reached the banks of the River Brue. And already, Harry, Arturia and Mordred could feel something. So too could Grey, given her wide eyes. "What is that?" Arturia's descendant asked.

"…Vivian, or some remnant of her. Thankfully, there's a Bounded Field shielding us from any bystanders," Harry mused, before he and Arturia went to the water's edge, the others following at a respectful or wary distance.

As they approached, the eerily beautiful form of Vivian, the Lady of the Lake, shimmered into being, ethereal and tenuous. Harry frowned. "…This isn't her. It's closer to…a recording," he murmured. "Vivian must have gone elsewhere."

And then, Vivian spoke, in the Celtic tongue of the time. "_This is a message I was besought to leave by the Magus of Flowers for Arturia Pendragon and Salazar Slytherin. Only their presence could bring me forth long after I have departed this place. Arturia, Salazar, I know you will come here, seeking Excalibur and Avalon. It was I who returned Caliburn to Merlin, so that you would have it with you when you woke, Arturia. I knew how fond you were of that sword. However, the time would come when you would need Excalibur once more. We decided to shield it, for Morgan and Godric Gryffindor still live as I speak, even if they hide. They sought everything they could of you, Arturia._"

"Wait, Morgan is still alive?!" Harry demanded. "I thought I roasted that bitch alive!"

Vivian continued, unheeding. "_Thankfully, only the presence of either Arturia or Salazar could unlock Excalibur's hiding place, hidden in much the same way as the island of Avalon was, hidden in the folds of time. To do so, one of you speak the words: I seek the Sword of Promised Victory, for the need for it has come once more._"

Harry and Arturia shared a look, before eventually, Arturia stepped forward, and said, "_I seek the Sword of Promised Victory, for the need for it has come once more._"

There was a sudden flare of golden light, which died away to reveal a sword floating in the air, which, to three of those present, looked very familiar. It was beautiful, gold and blue, with the eldritch writing of the Fae inscribed upon it. But it wasn't just beautiful. One could feel the power radiating from the sword in waves.

"Holy shit," Kairi murmured. "That's Excalibur?"

Harry nodded. "The Sword of Promised Victory."

"…It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," Grey murmured.

Arturia gently plucked the sword from the air, and gave a rueful smile. Then, Vivian spoke. "_To find the sheath, go west, to what will be called Cornwall_," she said. "_The King known as the Lionheart took it there and hid it. But beware. Even with these in your possession, the battles ahead shall not be easy. You face foes on two fronts. A warlock who revels in darkness and fears death. And a triptych standing in the light that casts the darkest shadows. Fare thee well._"

As Vivian faded, Harry scowled. "She doesn't even tell us the important stuff. How did Morgan survive me using Fiendfyre? And Godric's still around? She may have recorded that centuries after Camlann."

"That's what I want to know," Arturia said. "However, her clue about where Avalon, the sheath, was…what did she mean by the Lionheart?"

"I thought Merlin downloaded that stuff into your head. I think she meant Richard I, known as Richard the Lionheart," Harry said. "We'll leave that for tomorrow, though. I think we've had enough excitement for one day…"

**CHAPTER 8 ANNOTATIONS:**

**So, Arturia's reclaimed Excalibur. But what next?**

**Review-answering time! ****AnimeGoji91****: Apart from Dumbledore, the Ministry and Voldemort's lackeys, I have no plans for any other antagonists from the Potterverse…well, aside from one other people have guessed.**

**LuBu081****: Take your time. I'm glad you liked the little shoutout.**

**Dragon Man 180****: Kairi will probably summon a different Servant should this story reach the events of ****_Fate/Apocrypha_****, and I doubt it'll be Jackie, adorable though that may be.**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	10. Chapter 9: Night Thoughts

**CHAPTER 9:**

**NIGHT THOUGHTS**

Harry invited Waver, Grey and Kairi to stay the night at Gorgoneion Castle. The three Magi agreed, especially as the likes of Morgan le Fay and Godric Gryffindor could be still alive and opposing them. He could scarcely believe it, and Vivian had only left a message, the magical equivalent of a tape recording. No detail, just a startling revelation he could scarcely believe.

Oh, Morgan was a tenacious bitch, and if anyone could have survived his rampage, it'd be her. But it meant it was all for nothing. Nothing. Because it meant that she was here, spinning her web. And Godric was still alive.

Harry ended up sitting on a couch by the hearth in his main reading room, having transfigured the original chairs into something more comfortable. He didn't realise Arturia had entered until he felt her sitting down beside him. "This just confirms that you are Sal reborn," Arturia observed. "You get broody."

"I do NOT get broody!" Harry retorted, looking at Arturia. He did a brief double-take: his loved one had taken her hair out of her bun, her long golden tresses currently framing her face, softening it. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he had to quickly reboot his brain to get it back into gear. "I get contemplative."

"I believe the modern idiom is 'same difference'," Arturia said. However, she too looked contemplative. "…Do you think Vivian spoke the truth? If so, why hasn't my sister taken over the country?"

"Dunno. Maybe she just was satisfied with bringing down Camelot out of spite, or maybe she realised she didn't have what it took to rule," Harry said quietly. "Morgan was a spiteful cow, true, but I'm not sure she was a megalomaniac. Yeah, she wanted to rule the country, and Uther's rejection of her hurt her, but…I think she hated you because, despite you being both a bastard child and a woman, you became King of the Britons. I think she just wanted to destroy you and everything you worked for. After that, maybe she decided to find a hobby."

"Perhaps. But what of Godric?"

"…Well, he would, but while he was a bully, he was also smart enough to realise he'd probably never rule directly. He was probably the one who had my character dragged through the mud, helped, even if only inadvertently, by that little shit of a nephew of mine. And Ro' didn't help when she got my more reasonable nephew to try and drag Helena back to Britain, and even he was an idiot. Helga was always the most sane of us."

"Hmm. She was one of those who persuaded me to bring you back after Godric exposed himself. She was always demanding that I rescind your exile, even before then. So too did Rowena's protégé, the Dagworth girl." Arturia looked into the fire, the flames dancing in her emerald eyes. "Sal…where did I go wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"…Mordred and I just had something of an argument. Nothing major, but…she pointed out that the people were discontent with a perfect king, and many of them were those who flocked to her banner. She said I was too distant and harsh and…inhuman."

"Yeah. The problem is, they didn't know the real you, Ria," Harry said quietly. "When you followed Merlin's advice, you forced that mask of a perfect, inhuman king onto yourself. Completely objective. It hurt me to see you like that."

"You told me that before, many times during my life. And Mordred…she said the same thing, just then. She wanted to hold Caliburn, you see, see if she was worthy to be king. I refused, and as we argued, she said she saw the burdens of being king killing me. That I was more human in this time than I ever was as king. Sal, Harry…I don't know what to truly say to our child."

"…Our child?" Harry noticed what he thought was a slip of the tongue, but Arturia's expression suggested otherwise.

"Mordred looks up to you, and she used to look up to me. She is a child of my blood, and while not of your blood, she views you…like a parent, not just an uncle. I want to try to reach out to her, and yet, I think back to all the lives she ended with her rebellion, and to Camlann. Even though Morgan pulled her strings, I cannot see those strings. I only see Mordred. Sal, what do I do?"

"…Do what you're doing. Reach out to her. Ria, she's right. You've been more human since you woke than you ever were in life. Your problem was not explaining why Mordred was unworthy to be your heir, and I understand why you said that. I'm not expecting you to truly forgive her, but…I want you to give her a chance to earn that forgiveness. Because I know, beneath it all, she is more like you than she is like Morgan. Under all her bluster and belligerence, she's a good girl. Most on the Round Table were good people. You attracted good people. Even Agravain, bastard though he was, worked for you instead of Morgan partly because you were a good person."

"And yet, I got them killed," Arturia said.

"And yet, they followed you," Harry retorted quietly. "Yeah, you had your faults, despite yourself, but never believe that you were a bad king, Arturia. You know how well known you are these days, held up as a paragon of virtue. Remember that. And remember…Mordred didn't come out of it as well as she could have. People these days view her as little more than a traitor and a monster, not knowing that she was just a girl wanting acknowledgement from her father. We have a second chance, Ria. As she is our child, we owe it to ourselves to raise her properly."

There was a scoff from the entrance of the room, and they saw Mordred standing there. "Hey, I'm 16, okay? I'm practically an adult!"

"Teenagers think with their hormones," Harry retorted towards the tomboyish knight. "Mordred, come here, okay? Please?"

Mordred didn't sit down next to them, instead sitting down on a couch opposite. "Fou's taken a liking to that Grey kid," Mordred said. "She's spoiling that damned thing rotten. That wimp of an academic is poring through that library of yours, and that necromancer…dunno where he is."

"I directed him to one of my Workshops," Harry said. "He wanted to work on the materials he uses for his trade. As for Waver…" A sudden realisation hit him. "Shit…Hermione would love it, and…well, I've been so wrapped up in getting Rhongomyniad and Excalibur and everything else, I forgot to let my friends know where I am."

"Ain't that for the best for now?" Mordred asked. "You haven't got the best reputation these days, Uncle Sal, and the moment they learn, they'll cut off ties with you."

"…That's a distinct possibility with Ron," Harry mused sadly. "Last year, he was pretty fickle with his friendship when my name came out of the Goblet of Fire. It wasn't anything malicious, he's just a bit of an idiot who's envious of what I have, fame and fortune, despite the fact that my parents in this life died for me to get it. Plus, he's a bit of a rabid Slytherin-phobe. Hermione might be better. She can be blinkered at times, but once she gets some evidence and a logical argument, she can be swayed. She's a bit like Ro' in some regards, and Helga in others. Actually, she reminds me of Elisa most. What worries me is Dumbledore."

"Why?" Arturia asked.

"I can't tell whether the Blood Wards were tampered with on purpose to have the effect they did, or whether the way they were set up was accidental due to meddling. The fact remains, though, that he viewed my returning to an abusive household, even one as well-protected as that, as necessary. Whether he is stupidly optimistic or blinkered, or if he had something more malevolent in mind, I don't know yet, and I can't really trust him or anyone who follows him blindly. In addition, my skills are rusty. Not all of my memories of my knowledge as Salazar Slytherin made it back, and my current magical capacity and control is nowhere near what it was during my prime. In other words, while I am still more competent and powerful than most wizards or Magi in this era, I am much reduced from my prime. Plus, my damned hormones keep getting in the way. I keep getting impulses hampering me."

"Ha! So I'm not the only one," Mordred cackled.

"Going back to allies, I'm a bit worried about my father's former associates in this life. Sirius spent a dozen years in Azkaban, and he's not a picture of mental health and wellbeing. He may be my godfather, but he was impulsive and foolish enough to leave me with Hagrid and go after Pettigrew. He also doesn't think much of Slytherins. Remus Lupin may be more thoughtful, and I can understand why he never approached me until now."

"Why is that?" Arturia asked.

"He's a werewolf, one who tries to fight the beast within, but he is subject to discrimination. If he approached the Boy Who Lived, even with his known association with my father, he might have been incarcerated, even executed," Harry said. "However, I am worried that he is beholden to Dumbledore too much to hear anything against him, let alone who I am. Out of those I know, the only people I would tentatively trust with this would be Hermione, and Ron's older twin brothers."

Mordred got up, and then sat on Harry's side, on the opposite side to Arturia. "Hey, you can do this, Uncle Sal. Between the three of us, there's nothing we can't do!"

"Overconfidence is the enemy, Mordred, but I agree with your sentiment," Arturia said. "With the three of us here, to say little of Waver, Grey and Kairi, our chances of succeeding are considerable. However, Harry is correct to be worried about his friends' reactions. It is something that will require considerable thought and tact."

"What, and you're capable of tact?" Mordred sneered.

"More so than you."

Harry sighed, feeling the tension in the Salazar Slytherin Sandwich he was the filling in. "Mordred, Ria is right. She may be tactless at times, but she's more tactful than you. It's okay, you can learn."

"Indeed, Mordred." Then, after a moment, Arturia got up from the lounge, and went over to Mordred's side, sitting down, so now Mordred was sandwiched between them. "Mordred…I refuse to apologise for saying you lacked the capacity for being a king. That was true then, and it is now. But…I will apologise for making you feel like an unworthy child. Given your deeds as one of my knights before…everything happened, you were certainly worthy. I still hate what you did to my kingdom, and to my men…but I never truly hated you for being Morgan's child. Agravain, Gawain, Gareth, they were all my half-sister's offspring, and I never hated them. And being a child by rape taints the rapist, not the child. Do you wish to start over? Not as king and knight, but as parent and child?"

Mordred looked at the floor, her eyes moistening suspiciously. "…Why?" she eventually bit out. "Why did we have to kill each other to realise this, Father?"

On an impulse, Arturia gently held Mordred as the young knight began to sob. For the first time, Arturia and Mordred embraced like the parent and child they were. Harry only just heard someone entering, and turned to see Grey standing there, Fou on her shoulder. "Grey…what's the matter?"

The doppelganger of Arturia just gave a rather wan smile. "Sorry, I was just wondering where you three were. The Professor was reading the tomes in your library…well, the ones written in Greek and Latin, anyway. Am I interrupting anything?"

"Not truly, Grey. You are family," Arturia said. "Mordred and I have come to an agreement. I hope."

Mordred broke away from her sire's embrace, and hurriedly wiped her face. "…Not crying, just got some soot in my eyes," she grumbled under her breath, before she turned to face Grey. "You still have that hood of yours up?"

Grey nodded, albeit morosely. "The Professor said I should, if only to avoid attention from those who knew who Arturia looked like. That, and…apparently, I didn't just resemble you, but the Saber of the Grail War he participated in. He has bad memories of her, so I think that was a factor."

"What?! How did Father get summoned as a Servant?"

"No, no! It wasn't you, Arturia…Saber claimed to be the Emperor Nero. Well, Empress. And, well…at one point, she held a concert. Her singing…apparently it was traumatic."

"…The Emperor Nero looked like me?" Arturia asked, confused. "Is that why he asked me about the singing?"

"The Professor showed me a picture she had her Master take and reproduce, handing it out to all and sundry. She was nothing like you in demeanour, being all boastful and flamboyant and narcissistic, though surprisingly, she seemed like a decent person. Just…lethally tone deaf. She also dressed more…revealingly. Her skirt was…see-through." Grey blushed a little.

Harry frowned. "I do remember reading the memoirs of Simon Magus, who apparently taught Nero some magecraft, and that he claimed Nero was a young woman, had this weird verbal tic sounding like 'Umu!'."

"That's her," Grey said.

Arturia got up, and walked over to Grey, gently removing her hood. "Grey…even so, you need not hide your face amongst us. You may be my descendent, and you may, rightfully, consider my face usurping yours to be a curse. But you are also family. You are not my clone, any more than Mordred is. Given what Waver spoke about your joint misadventures, to say nothing of Rhongomyniad finding you worthy, you would certainly have had a place at the Round Table."

"…I couldn't do anything against Berserker," the girl said. "But you two…"

"Have fought alongside each other before, and thus, the two of us could fight well against a single opponent," Arturia said, looking at Mordred. "You helped protect Waver, along with Harry, or at least you would have wielded Rhongomyniad if needed. Still…about that situation…you said that the Berserker seemed familiar, Sal. I too felt the same way."

"Yeah, me too," Mordred said.

"I doubt it was Vortigern," Arturia mused. "His fighting style was vastly different, and what little I glimpsed of its armour through that mist wasn't his style. Besides, you never fought him, Mordred, so you wouldn't find his style familiar. And Berserker…the way it wielded a sign like it was a powerful weapon…there's something about that that bothers me."

"It bothers me too," Grey said. "Berserkers generally trade their sanity for strength, and yet, its skill was superlative, even I could tell that. And the way it looked at us…Arturia, when it saw us, it focused on the three of us, you, me, and Mordred. But if it knew you two, why did it focus on me as well?"

"You look like Arturia," Harry said. "It may be as simple as that. But who would hate her that much and have such skill? It'd be a long list, true, but the number who'd make it to the Throne of Heroes, given what Waver told us about the Grail War earlier, is rather small."

"I don't have an answer," Arturia said. "The only thing I can say is that I fear I will not like the answer when I learn it…"

**CHAPTER 9 ANNOTATIONS:**

**Some family time for the ad hoc Potter-Slytherin-Pendragon family, and Mordred and Arturia beginning to patch things up in earnest. I'm a sucker for fics where Arturia and Mordred reconcile, as you may know. Plus, some references to the whole Saberface phenomenon, though I think Nero and Iskandar would get along very well, compared to Iskandar and Arturia.**

**BTW, Mordred being 16? I took that from the ****_Fate/Grand Order_**** game, where her Camelot self states this to be her age.**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	11. Chapter 10: Another Rebirth

**CHAPTER 10:**

**ANOTHER REBIRTH**

"Hmmph," the hooded woman remarked. "It seems that Vivian bluffed me. That slattern hid Excalibur where I thought she would be too stupid to hide. I forgot that she could have hidden it like how Avalon was, askew in time."

"How do you know they have Excalibur?"

"More instinct than anything else. They headed to the River Brue, and a Bounded Field of some power hid them from me," the woman said. "However, I felt the power of Excalibur. Unfortunately, Salazar's enchantments on his castle are too strong, even after all this time. I can't scry where they've doubtlessly made their base of operations."

"Then we'll have to consider striking Salazar where it will hurt him the most. His friends in this life."

"You mean the Weasley brood and that Granger brat," the hooded woman said. "Oh, and Longbottom. Well, we don't have to do much to isolate him from society for now. Fudge seems to have it in his head that Harry Potter is a deluded attention whore. I think we can let him do the work for us in character assassination, at least for now."

"But he's still attacking Albus. Albus may be a pawn and a patsy, but he's a useful one all the same," the hooded man said. "Not like Dippet or Black. I mean Phineas. Gellert's betrayal and his subsequent war broke Albus, allowing me to influence him. Sway him to our way of thinking."

"True, but Dumbledore knows how to weather such things from that idiot. Plus, he can use the revelation of Harry Potter being Salazar Slytherin's reincarnation to curry favour, at the right time, of course. Our goal is not merely to kill him. That is why we helped Albus set up the Boy Who Lived mythos. It is why I had you save him in the Chamber of Secrets, though how you didn't notice Arturia and Mordred's presence at the time…"

"I was preoccupied trying to prevent myself from simply letting him die in agony from Basilisk venom, in spite of all my instincts to the contrary."

"Our point is to bring him to lofty heights, so that the inevitable fall, one we will admittedly hasten, will not merely break him, but shatter him. Salazar had one thing in his life, a desperate desire to be loved. We will take away all who love him, and everything he has cherished. Besides…I've begun more summonings. In fact…our Saber is very interesting."

"Oh? Another Knight of the Round Table who betrayed her?"

"Not exactly," the hooded woman said, before gesturing to the door. It opened, and a figure in dark clothes appeared, with pale blonde hair, once golden, done up in a familiar bun. Pale golden eyes peered at them balefully.

The hooded man started. "How is this possible? She's…"

"Mind your tongue," the newcomer said coldly. "I am here at her summons, not yours. I know not your name or your mien, nor do I care to. Show your strength when we fight our foes, and I will reconsider."

The hooded man looked sharply at the hooded woman, who cackled. "Sorry, she comes from a timeline where your type of wizards and Hogwarts didn't exist. Hence why she doesn't recognise you. By the way, I thought you were eating?"

The newcomer looked at her. "I am sated for now. The House Elves you had bring me meals have brought good ones. Your hospitality does you credit for a change, sister. Now, I will go and practise. Keep me away from Berserker. And ensure any further Servants you summon are ones I can fight alongside." And with that, the newcomer left.

The hooded woman chuckled. "Ah, how amusing. I actually prefer her like this."

"But can she fight? An intimidating look is one thing, but actual ability to fight…"

"Oh…I'm sure she can fight as well as Arturia, even more so. After all, she doesn't have any more pesky scruples…"

* * *

Harry, in the end, decided to retrieve Hermione the next morning and try to persuade her of what he was doing. He decided this for a number of reasons. Despite her adherence to authority worship and quixotic causes (like SPEW), she had been loyal to him when many others weren't. She was intelligent and, when nudged in the right direction, was good at critical thinking (just not at times when her authority worship or quixotic nature overrode her intellect). And first and foremost, he trusted her more than anyone else.

Which was why he, Arturia and Mordred went to the Granger home in Crawley (he shuddered at the thought of a Death Eater being smart enough to use a phonebook or the internet to look up addresses) and rang the doorbell. They were soon greeted at the door by a bushy-haired Harry-seeking missile. "Harry! Are you all right? Why are you here? Professor McGonagall was over here looking for you, saying your uncle and aunt had…"

"Hermione, breathe," Harry said. And then, suddenly, he felt something. An instinct. The personality may be different in many regards, more compassionate and impulsive, but it was the same in many others. And her magic…yes, he was certain. Thankfully, her parents weren't home.

Eventually, he decided to take a chance. If he was correct, he might gain an ally. If not…

In Parseltongue, he said, "_Elisa of Dagworth…if you sleep within this girl, come forth_." He allowed his magic to surround her. And then, it found a keyhole of sorts…which he unlocked.

Hermione's eyes widened, and then rolled up in the back of her sockets. She collapsed, or would have, if Harry didn't get a hold of her. "What the hell?!" Mordred yelped.

"She's like me, Little Mordred, she's remembering who she truly was," Harry said, even as Hermione convulsed in his arms. He helped her to a nearby chair.

Eventually, the convulsions stopped, and then, she blinked, opening her eyes, the difference subtle but there. She stood, gingerly, before looking at Harry. "…Sal? Is that you?"

"Yes, Elisa. Or would you prefer Hermione?"

"…Actually, yes. Elisa was the girl who was forced to flee her Muggle parents for Hogwarts. But…one thing, Sal, or should that be Harry?" She flashed him a sickly sweet smile, and he knew what was coming. His head snapped to the side as she slapped him, hard.

"…I deserved that," he admitted, rubbing his cheek.

She fixed him with a glare. "Yes, you did. Making me worry about you, and dying taking out Morgan…Helena needed you to shield her, and you went and got yourself exiled! You always called me Rowena's prodigy, but you cared for me more, you and Helga! And now in this life, you're doing your own thing again, and…" Hermione, the reincarnation of Elisa of Dagworth, one of Rowena Ravenclaw's best prodigies, scrubbed from history for being a Muggleborn, suddenly seemed to realise something, and she looked past Harry to Arturia and Mordred, before she curtsied. "Your Highness, I…"

"Elisa…it's fine. I am a king without a kingdom. You need not curtsey," Arturia said.

"Sorry, who's this?" Mordred asked. "I mean, I remember you speaking about someone called Elisa of Dagworth, Uncle Sal, but…"

"It's a long story. Short version, she was a Muggleborn who was one of Rowena's protégés. Like you, I considered her like family, as she was mistreated by her Muggle parents. Helga and I were the ones to get her to Hogwarts, and while Ro' was usually the one to teach her…"

Hermione nodded. "Thankfully, in this life, my parents were decent. Sal, can we trust Mordred?"

Harry waved down the scowling Mordred. "I trust Mordred with my life. Maybe not Ria's, but…certainly yours and mine."

This seemed to satisfy the reincarnated witch. "Right. Then what's the situation?"

"We're retrieving Arturia's artifacts to ensure we can take on Voldemort. We have Caliburn and Excalibur, and we need to find Avalon, the sheath. However, I can't trust Dumbledore, and a recording of Vivian stated that both Godric and Morgan lived at the time she left it."

Hermione frowned, her authority worship in this life clashing with her experience in the Hogwarts of yore. "You can't trust Dumbledore? Why?"

"There were Blood Wards that had been tampered with. I can't rule out accident, but I can't rule out malice either."

"…And the Dursleys…you…"

Harry knew what she was implying. In her previous life, she knew just how vindictive Salazar Slytherin could be. "Yes."

Hermione nodded. "…I see. I don't like it, but I understand. I want a more complete explanation later."

"You'll get one. But…your parents…how will we deal with them? If they truly cared for you in this life, then I would rather not leave them in the lurch. I can bring them to Gorgoneion Castle, in case the Death Eaters or other foes target them. But you said that they have their own commitments as dentists."

"Professor McGonagall spoke with me while you were incommunicado, as I said," Hermione said. "In a short while, within a week or so, I was going to be brought to some sort of safehouse where Dumbledore's supporters are going to use as a headquarters. I think Sirius and Remus will be there, along with the Weasleys. Sal, if they learned who you are…"

"I know, Elisa."

"…No. Call me Hermione. Please."

"Then call me Harry. It's still weird getting used to being called Sal by Ria and Little Mordred again after so many years of 'Harry', and you're literally the only friend I know of who has lived in both this era and our original time. Given your loyalty to me last year when Ron had his little hissy fit, you deserve that much. Did your parents know that you were going to this safehouse?"

"Yes, but they wouldn't be told the location. They accepted that. My father was in the military for some time, he understands it, even if he doesn't like it. In truth, they were going to go on holiday before long. Today was their last day of work, and they were going to spend part of the holiday with me before I went to this safehouse."

"Well, Gorgoneion Castle isn't exactly the Savoy, but it's a good place to stay for a time until we deal with this mess. Plus, it's not far from some sights in France, and if we used Portkeys, Paris, Marseille, all sorts of places are within reach for daytrips. Voldemort seems to be consolidating his power here, and it's doubtful that a Servant will be sent across the Channel. However, we need to find out who sent them."

"Sorry, Servant?"

Arturia cleared her throat. "We were set upon by an entity that a Magus accompanying us, Waver Velvet, identified as a Servant. They are basically Heroic Spirits summoned to act as familiars. Whoever it was they summoned was someone whose fighting style we recognised. However, their identity was obscured by both their armour as well as a strange mist that obscured any specific features we may have recognised. However, its class was a fitting one: Berserker."

"I remember a joint lesson Lady Ravenclaw and Merlin gave about Heroic Spirits and the Throne of Heroes," Hermione mused. "This was, admittedly, during your exile. I would have picked at least you, Your Majesty, to end up there."

As Arturia smiled a little at the praise, Mordred scowled. "That's all very well, but we need to get you and your parents sorted," the belligerent young knight pointed out. "Can we afford to wait until they get back from work?"

"They're my family, Mordred, and unlike my parents in my previous life, to say nothing of Morgan towards you, they actually gave a damn about me," Hermione said archly.

As Mordred bristled, Harry groaned. "Hermione, you're usually the one to be peacekeeper between Ron and I. I'm already trying to play peacekeeper between Ria and Mordred, and you know how much I liked that in our past life."

"In other words, not much at all. I remember the rows you had with Lady Ravenclaw and Godric. It was usually Helga who kept the peace." Hermione sighed in annoyance. "I'll try, for your sake and Arturia's. I can call you Arturia?"

"Of course. I remember you, Elisa of Dagworth, and your loyalty to Sal was heartening."

"Thanks. Your clothes suit you. So do Mordred's, actually…"

* * *

The hooded man grinned as the summoning circle flared with actinic light. And once it died down, a figure was revealed, standing tall, clad in naval uniform from centuries ago. "Servant Rider comes at your summons," the man said with a rough voice and Italian accent, his white beard distorted around a vicious grin. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

"Of course," the hooded man said with a smile. "We already have a Saber and a Berserker fighting alongside us. I daresay a Rider will be of considerable help."

"Ha! Good to hear, even if it's a trifle strange that I'll be having allies amongst Servants. So, where's the gorgeous women and treasure at, eh?"

As if on cue, the door opened to reveal the form of Saber, whose golden eyes narrowed upon seeing the new Servant. "Is this our new Servant?"

"Yes, a Rider, apparently."

Saber looked him up and down. "Do not disappoint me," she said.

"Oh-ho? This little slip of a _ragazza_ thinks she can command me?" Rider remarked, only for a pitch black blade with crimson markings to be placed at his throat.

"I do not think I can command you, I know I will. Otherwise, I will run you through, pirate."

"Whoa now, Saber!" Rider said, putting up his hands. "You've got a tongue as sharp and as wicked as that blade. Besides, I'm not really a pirate. More of an explorer."

"I've seen your sort of avaricious and rapacious look in the eyes of Saxon raiders," Saber said, withdrawing her blade. She then turned to the hooded man. "My Master said you intended to summon two Servants. I am here to prevent any trouble."

The hooded man rolled his eyes. "There won't be. Now…let's try again. Rider, please get out of the summoning circle." As the Rider did so, the hooded man repeated the chant, and once more, there was a flare of light.

"Bwahahahaha!" cackled a voice out of the fading light. Then, the form of the new Servant was revealed, appearing to be an Asian girl in her teens, with long black hair, crimson eyes, and a militaristic uniform, a matchlock rifle placed lazily over her shoulder. "I am the Demon Archer of the Seventh Heaven!" She then peered at the hooded man, before nodding. "Right! I'll allow you to be my Master!"

_As if I'd give you any choice in the matter_, the hooded man thought darkly. Still, despite their uncouthness, Rider and Archer seemed useful enough. Though he couldn't help but have his eyes flick over to where an unimpressed Saber stood, watching. Their eyes met, and he grimaced inwardly at the disdain and contempt she showed him. Like he was no more than a worm.

Well…he would show her. He would break her and Arturia to his will. And his erstwhile partner…once her use had ended, he would dispose of the treacherous witch. He knew she was thinking the same. After all, the time for his second advent was soon approaching, to save Britain in its darkest hour, and he knew she wouldn't be satisfied with that. There was room for only one at the top, and it would be him…

**CHAPTER 10 ANNOTATIONS:**

**So, that just happened.**

**Now, regarding Hermione being a reincarnation, and of an OC, well, allow me to elucidate. Hermione was the reincarnation of Helga Hufflepuff in ****_Rebirth of the Founders_****, odd though that may seem, but I didn't want to ape DaSalvatore's work. In fact, for a time, I considered not making her a reincarnation at all. But I decided to try it anyway, hence my creating an OC who was a plausible ancestor of Hermione. Yes, Dagworth probably wasn't a name back then (they're speaking the modern equivalent of what the place name was, as Dagworth is an actual place in England), but Elisa is as old as the Old Testament, as a form of Elizabeth, Elisheva, the wife of Aaron (and thus sister-in-law of Moses), as well as the name of the mother of John the Baptist. Maybe it's not correct Anglo-Saxon or Celtic, but maybe her parents in her past life were descended from Romanized Britons who kept it.**

**I decided on her being a reincarnation to help ease her becoming Harry's ally. Otherwise, there'll be all sorts of annoying shenanigans about Harry trying to convince Hermione that she can trust Salazar Slytherin. So, with a reincarnation and of an OC student of the Founders, an angry slap helps bridge matters.**

**And who are these Servants that the villains have summoned? I think it's pretty obvious to anyone familiar with the Nasuverse, for the most part. Two of them, admittedly, play larger roles in ****_Fate/Grand Order_****, but still…**

**Review-answering time! ****Rock Drake the Destroyer****: More the other way around. And Morgan is still going after them because she views them as a threat, simply by existing. She is so spiteful towards Arturia and Salazar, she cannot bear to have them have happy lives. We'll explore her motivations, and those of her co-conspirators, in a later chapter, with an examination of Dumbledore's motives being the first part of the next chapter.**

**Sakura Lisel****: That's…a very good question. I think Homunculus means any human magically enhanced while in the womb as well as being grown in tanks. I honestly don't know the particulars.**

**Guest****: You do have a point, but I actually wrote this nerfing of Salazar-Harry in as early as Chapter 2. The above revelation, admittedly, was something I had to retcon foreshadowing in previous chapters before I published it, but nerfing Salazar-Harry was something I had considered.**

**ZLC genesmith****: Lancelot does have a skill, specifically For Someone's Glory, which hides any markers of his identity, and, as ****_Fate/Zero_**** shows, he can actually disguise himself as another Servant, though it takes a Command Seal to do so. He uses this ability in ****_Fate/Extella Link_**** as well to disguise himself.**

**AnimeGoji91****: Because Arturia presented herself as a man, and Mordred was told Arturia was her father by Morgan. It's a habit she hasn't broken, and to tell the truth, while she has accepted that both she and her father are female, she still uses the same terminology. Calling Arturia 'Mother' when that is what she called Morgan would open up another can of worms.**

**Sunwolf27****: No. It was a reference to the anime series ****_The Case Files of Lord El-Melloi II_****. Grey, Kairi and Waver get involved with incidents involving the Wild Hunt. This is far from the only reference to the Wild Hunt in the Nasuverse either: both Francis Drake and Arturia's Lancer Alter self are both linked to the Wild Hunt, and Drake's NP is actually called the Golden Wild Hunt.**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	12. Chapter 11: Light and Darkness

**CHAPTER 11:**

**LIGHT AND DARKNESS**

It is a truism that evil men never consider themselves to be so. This, of course, applies to Albus Dumbledore. And to be fair to him, there are many times and places where he is a good and decent man. However, this is not one of them.

Not that he was evil per se. Rather, he allowed himself to fall prey to honeyed words, more than once. He was like the Crusaders, lulled into believing that their dark deeds done in their journey to Jerusalem counted as a penance in the eyes of God, or at least the Vatican. And he wanted to correct the mistakes he made in the past. Ariana's death. The rise of Grindlewald. The advent of Voldemort. And now, he had an opportunity to redeem himself.

Because that's what Dumbledore wanted. Redemption, because he felt he was a pillar of virtue in Magical Britain, and yet, had failed to see enough of the signs to stymie evil until it was too late. Ariana's death, Grindlewald and Voldemort's rise…it came about because of his own weakness.

And then, he was told, by sources he trusted, that Salazar Slytherin's second advent would come, someone who could fight Voldemort, but who would end up even worse than him. And Dumbledore knew it was his solemn duty to stymie that threat.

He was told by those sources how to deal with the threat. He didn't want to do it that way, he thought there must be a way for Salazar Slytherin to be turned back to the light…but the stories they regaled him with, of those dark times, filled him with horror. He knew they couldn't be lying, or at least one of them, given what they had become. And he was so desperate for salvation, he went along with the plan. One that would see Salazar chained forever in a true hero's soul, or else revealed to be the nascent Dark Lord he was. Or he would die taking down Voldemort.

To think Salazar Slytherin had also been in cahoots with Morgan le Fay, intending to take down Arturia in a fit of jealousy. That he had sown the seeds of discord in Camelot with the help of Morgan and Mordred, only to have a massive falling out with them. And one day, he would return to wreak havoc upon Britain.

And now, apparently the thing they feared was coming to pass. Salazar Slytherin had come back, subsuming Harry Potter, and taking control of pliant Homunculi copies of Arturia Pendragon and Mordred, seeking out the lost artifacts of Arturia. But things were well in hand, his allies reminded him. Soon, a reckoning would happen. Voldemort and Salazar would be made to face each other, and then, once they had destroyed each other, well, Dumbledore could rest easy, knowing that Magical Britain was in safe hands…

* * *

They decided to come back when the Grangers were back from their dentist job. For now, they decided to head to Cornwall, and try to find where Avalon might have been placed. Hermione soon met Waver, Grey and Kairi. Of them, she promptly began mothering Grey, and was soon debating magic of all kinds with a bemused but interested Waver.

"This place has changed so much, and yet so little," Hermione mused as they walked through the Cornish countryside. "What was your childhood like for you, Arturia?"

"Sir Ector raised me well," Arturia said. "True, he was rough around the edges, but…he loved me as if I was his own child, and even if he didn't believe I could be king, he believed I could become a knight, despite my gender. However, even then, it wasn't a luxurious existence. How about you, Mordred? How well did Morgan raise you?"

Mordred rolled her eyes. "Now you take an interest in that? Look, don't get me wrong, in hindsight, she was a manipulative cow who pulled my strings. But…she made me feel loved, Father. While I can't say I wanted for nothing…she made sure I was happy at least some of the time. Even as she tried to get me to take you down. Uncle Sal found me, and, well…he helped raise me whenever I was away from Morgan. Though what of Uther?"

"…I have mixed feelings about him. And to tell the truth, Mordred…I understand my sister's anger at not being chosen to rule because she was female, especially as I ended up becoming king."

"So…if I was actually worthy of the throne, it wouldn't matter if I was a man or a woman?"

Arturia scoffed. "Of course not. For all Agravain's usefulness, his misogyny, I will admit, was something I found hard to tolerate. I did not hate my sister because she was a woman, but because she wished to ruin all I had worked for out of spite."

"Even so, you've got cases where the people find it hard to accept being ruled by a woman," Kairi said. "In this country alone…well, while both Elizabeths and Victoria did well, you have Bloody Mary. And, of course, there was the Anarchy."

"The Anarchy?" Mordred asked.

"A civil war that happened after Henry I died in the 12th Century," Waver explained. "Henry had named his daughter Matilda as heir, but his nephew, Stephen of Blois, seized the throne. Eighteen years of bloodshed followed."

"And Bloody Mary?" Arturia asked.

"The eldest child of Henry VIII," Kairi said. "A Catholic fanatic who didn't endear the people she ruled when she burned Protestants at the stake, to say nothing of wedding herself to the King of Spain. She nearly poisoned the well for her younger sister Elizabeth I, who ruled the country better, even if she had her moments. Nothing like as badass as you two, though."

"Ha! Okay, I like the cut of your jib…Kairi, was it?" Mordred asked. On receiving a nod from the necromancer mercenary, she said, "Well, to be a member of the Round Table, you had to be 'badass', as you put it."

"_Add add add!_" cackled Add from his cage. "_The only bad ass you had was when you ate that rotting donkey for a bet, Mordred!_"

"Add!" Grey yelped, mortified, shaking the cage to chastise the Mystic Code. "I'm sorry for…"

Mordred interrupted her. "Don't. He's just a mouthy Mystic Code who thinks he's Sir Kay," she said, shooting a look over her shoulder. "Don't apologise for his shortcomings. Besides, believe me, shitty food was something you often lived with back then. And grow a bit more of a spine, okay? You're meant to be worthy of Rhongomyniad. _Act like it_."

"Mordred," Arturia scolded.

"What? I've got to look out for her. If she's meant to be my younger sister, then I've got to lick her into shape. Rhongomyniad ain't a fancy trinket, it's a fucking Divine Construct, like Excalibur. You can't be timid while wielding it, right?"

"You didn't see her while using that thing against the Black Dogs, Mordred," Kairi said. "She wasn't timid then."

"Correct. Grey has great reserves of courage and determination. She does her line proud," Waver said.

"I'm glad to hear that," Harry said, even as he cast another Point Me, and it finally reacted. "I think we've found where Avalon is."

They were close to the ocean, and not far from the town now known as Marazion, Harry realised. And on an island just off the coast, linked by a causeway that he knew became submerged during high tide. "Hermione," Harry said. "What's the odds that Avalon is somewhere on St Michael's Mount?"

"Very likely. Though if we could detect it with a Point Me spell…why hasn't Morgan taken it already?"

"I doubt the sheath of Excalibur meant much to her. Morgan would prefer some sort of healing magic, and while it's powerful, being created by the Fae, it's nowhere near as potent in power, either magically or symbolically, as Excalibur or Caliburn."

"I agree," Arturia said. "It was a monastic site in our time, for all religions, though that monastery…"

"Comes from later," Waver said. "While Edward the Confessor gifted the site to the Benedictine order of Mont St Michael, a monastery had been on that site for centuries before then, even if it was after your time. In truth, I shouldn't be surprised. I heard rumours that the von Einzberns considered excavating this site back in the Thirties, looking for artifacts to use as catalysts for the Third Holy Grail War. They decided against it. Assuming they used Avalon, in all likelihood, they would have summoned you as a Saber, Arturia. However, the Edelfelts summoned twin Sabers. Which Servant the von Einzberns summoned, I don't know. And given the mess the Thule Society and the Germans made in trying to steal the Greater Grail, well, records are fragmentary."

"What actually happened to the Greater Grail?" Kairi asked.

"Nobody knows," Waver said with a shrug. "Not for certain. A few claimed that Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia was the one who called in the Nazis, only to backstab them and hide the Greater Grail away in his stronghold in Trifas, Romania. Until recently, few gave that particular theory any credence, but rumours abound that Darnic is preparing for something big at the moment. Certainly, there's been a flow of artifacts that could count as catalysts into Romania, but…"

Arturia looked over her shoulder at Waver. "This man, Darnic…what sort of man is he?"

"He collaborated with Nazis, Ria," Harry said. "The Death Eaters are basically wizarding Nazis. Though he did backstab them if that theory is true. Waver?"

"While Darnic is perhaps less destructive than Voldemort, that is damning him with faint praise. Darnic is ambitious, and what's more, he's been researching dubious methods of eternal youth. We don't know for sure…but we believe his most likely method is fusion with an infant's soul."

Everyone around him halted, and then stared at Waver. Flatly, Hermione said, "…That is not only atrocious, but insane. Wouldn't that tamper with his personality?"

"It's a more stable method than a Horcrux," Harry mused. "But Hermione's right, it's atrocious and insane."

"There's more," Waver said. "Darnic has some considerable odium for Clock Tower. Not long before the Third Holy Grail War, he was an up and coming Magus, but someone claimed to have found proof that his bloodline would die out, and was destined for ruin. In truth, examining the records, it appears to have been a political move, as are many actions within the Magus Association."

"Create your own monster, huh?" Kairi asked.

"Correct. Yggdmillennia has since become a cuckoo clan of sorts, absorbing a number of lesser Magi bloodlines into its aegis. Most are mediocre at best, but the Forvedge, Musik, Icecolle and Frain bloodlines are relatively strong lines in realms like alchemy, kabbalah, and curses. And because they reject the dogma of Magic Crests being passed down to only one heir…well, they've gained a lot of support amongst the discontented of Clock Tower."

"They must have ways of bypassing the need for a Magic Crest," Hermione mused. "Any wizards under their banner?"

"Possibly…"

* * *

After some more talk, they decided to Apparate over to St Michael's Mount, though not before using binoculars to pinpoint a place where few people would be present. Kairi had some. And they soon found the signature they wanted with Point Me spells. It led them to the rear of the rocky island, around which they made their way very carefully, using Notice Me Nots.

They soon found a cleft in the rock, only… "There's a Bounded Field here," Waver said. "Strong. Trying to deter us from looking any further."

"One of Richard I's wizards or Magi, no doubt," Harry muttered, before waving a hand. Something seemed to shatter, and where there was nothing, there was now a stone box, like a sarcophagus. With another gesture, Harry had the lid removed.

All present stared at the item thus revealed, though to four of those present, it was familiar. A wedge of metal, gold and blue, inscribed with the eldritch writing of the Fair Folk. "Is that Avalon?" Grey asked.

"Yes," Arturia said, gingerly lifting the sheath out, before she pressed it to her body. It seemed to vanish in a flare of light. "I'd almost forgotten what it felt like," she murmured.

Before they could comment any further, they suddenly felt a familiar sensation, killing intent and bloodlust. But this was not the same as what they felt when they fought Berserker. Hermione looked around sharply. "A Bounded Field…and what is this?"

"Another Servant," Waver said grimly. "We've been tracked."

"Correct."

The cold, high, and above all familiar voice had them scrambling out of the cleft in the rock, to see a figure silhouetted against the afternoon sun. The outline was damnably familiar. Suddenly, the figure leapt down, sword aimed at Mordred, who barely raised Clarent in time to block the blow. She was promptly kicked away, Grey knocked down with her like a skittle hit by a ball.

Harry, Hermione, and Arturia, though, were all staring at the figure. Like Berserker, it was clad in pitch-black armour, but not like the mist-wreathed figure they had fought before. In fact, it was like the armour of one of those present, but corrupted, tainted even, an impression enhanced by glowing red lines, like veins filled with hellfire. A visor covered the eyes of the attacker, but there was no denying who they looked like. Pale blonde hair framed pale features, set in a cold expression.

"…The treacherous bastard," the intruder noted coldly, looking at Mordred, before looking at Grey. "A failed copy." And then, they looked at Arturia. "…And the false king."

"No…" Arturia said, shaking her head, even as the intruder removed the visor from their face, revealing golden orbs. "No…it is you who are false! Identify yourself!"

The intruder scoffed. She seemed to be nothing less than a doppelganger of Arturia, but with corrupted armour, pale skin and hair, and golden eyes. But that wasn't the worse of it. Despite Arturia's stoicism and occasional ruthlessness, whatever humanity she possessed seemed virtually absent in this doppelganger. "Identify myself, to the walking dead? If you must know, false king, I am the true Arturia Pendragon, and your executioner…but if that stymies your tiny mind, then you can call me…_Saber_…"

**CHAPTER 11 ANNOTATIONS:**

**Oh dear. Salter has just made herself known.**

**Review-answering time! ****WearyCurmudgeon****: While Morgan may have been Ygraine's child in Arthurian myth, the Nasuverse wiki clearly states that her father is Uther Pendragon. Admittedly, that is probably because she is frequently conflated with Morgause in modern renditions, so for the sake of this adaptation, it's the same here, and Morgause is a tutor of Morgan's, as stated in the modified Grail chant.**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	13. Chapter 12: Saber

**CHAPTER 12:**

**SABER**

"…Ria…what the hell did they do to you?" Harry whispered in horror.

"_They_ did nothing to me," Saber said. "So…you are Salazar Slytherin's reincarnation. I am not impressed."

"And neither am I," Arturia said, glaring at her doppelganger. "I assume you are an aspect of one of us who ended up on the Throne of Heroes…but you…you feel more like Vortigern than I."

Saber scoffed, a single bark of sardonic mirth, as she examined her gauntleted hand. "You say that like it's a bad thing, false monarch. Vortigern knew something we never realised. That to rule, one must be a tyrant, acting without restraints. That power is all."

"And lots of food," Harry added facetiously, remembering Arturia's (and Mordred's) prodigious appetite.

Saber nodded absently. "And lots of food…wait, what?"

"Yeah, she's definitely your evil knockoff, Ria," Harry snarked as Saber looked at him sharply. "What was it you liked to say? Hunger is the enemy?" He frowned. "Gods, though…look at her. She looks like a teenaged, less-buxom Morgan le Fay in armour going through an edgelord phase. That, by the way, is a _very_ disturbing mental image."

"Agreed," Arturia said.

"Is that all you can do? _Talk?_" Saber asked with a cold sneer. "I never met you in life, coming from another existence without these wizards, but I can tell your fame in this world is highly overrated. Words seem to be all you can use, and not very well at that."

"That's the thing, _Saber_," Harry said, allowing the personality of Slytherin to come to the fore. "Words have a magic all of themselves, even when they're not being used for spells. And the thing people forget is, Slytherin is the house of the cunning. You don't need magic to be cunning, just words." And then, he snapped out, and fired off the most powerful wordless Banishing Charm he could manage, sending Saber hurtling through the air and crashing into the ocean. "But it helps to have magic, I'll give you that."

Waver looked over at Grey, who'd managed to disentangle herself from Mordred. "Grey, I think you may need to use Add's Grim Reaper form."

"Yeah, it's too much to hope that she'll sink and drown," Kairi muttered.

"Even if she doesn't have my blessing from Vivian," Arturia said, readying Excalibur, "if even what a fraction you spoke of Servants is true, Waver, then I doubt she will go down so easily."

As if on cue, Saber leapt out of the water, landing near them, looking a little put out and waterlogged, but otherwise unharmed. With Mordred instinctively shielding Grey, the young descendent of the Pendragons held up the cage. "Add!"

"_Got it!_" yelled the Mystic Code, its eyes briefly flaring.

"FIRST STAGE RESTRAINT, DEACTIVATE!" Grey cried out, and the cage seemed to split apart, as did Add, the faces on the cube moving apart, briefly revealing a spiral of light within a transparent cube, before the faces began to warp and change around it.

Saber frowned. "I know that feeling. How curious…this little whelp of a failed copy actually has Rhongomyniad, in such a diminished form?" A small, anticipatory smile then touched her lips. "This might actually be worth my time after all."

Soon, Grey was wielding a massive scythe with elaborate gold and blue decorations that put Harry in mind of those on Excalibur and Avalon. And yet, the teenager seemed to wield it with ease, her pale green eyes now glowing orange. "I've gone through my life resenting my heritage," Grey said. "Resenting King Arthur. But even so…I would never spit on her legend like you do, Saber."

"The whelp thinks her bark is capable of harming me, like her bite," Saber retorted. "In truth, they are equally impotent." With that, she lunged, only to be intercepted by Mordred and Clarent.

"Round two, bitch," the young knight sneered, before kicking away the corrupted double of her father, and then bringing Clarent down on her, Saber blocking it. "Killing Father last time…I didn't take any pleasure in that. But this will definitely put a smile on my face!" Mordred snarled, as she clashed with Saber.

"If I recall, I ran you through with Rhongomyniad," Saber said coldly. "The only reason you killed me was because Morgan cursed your very corpse to continue fighting until you killed me. I should be more thorough, chopping you into mince." But even as she made to attack Mordred, her attack was intercepted by Excalibur. "Ho? The King of Knights is disdaining the rules of single combat to save a treacherous bastard?"

"A bastard and a traitor Mordred may be, but she is still my child. It's past time I acted like it," Arturia said, glaring at her counterpart.

Saber scoffed. "Then by all means…make it three on one with the failed copy, or bring in the wizards and Magi…the end result will merely differ in the pettiest of details."

Harry, meanwhile, began searching for a rock, hit by a sudden flash of inspiration. He found a fair-sized one, and began enchanting it with a smirk. "Oh? And what are you smiling for?" Saber asked.

"Nostalgia," Harry said, before flinging the stone to her. "Catch!"

With a scowl, she swung her sword at it, only for her to vanish the moment her sword cut into it. Mordred and Hermione seemed to cotton onto what he did at the same time, with both doubling over, laughing. "What did you do?" a puzzled Grey asked.

"I remembered a prank I played on that fool of a relative of mine who became the Bloody Baron," Harry said. "He challenged me to a duel when I defended Mordred's honour. Both Mordred and Elisa witnessed it. I chose a rock as a weapon, he chose his usual sabre. I turned the rock into a Portkey that would only activate when it hit him or his weapon. He got dumped into the Black Lake, a nice little lesson in humility and creative use of magic that sadly didn't stick. Saber has been dumped somewhere considerably worse. I considered Azkaban, but the prison might get damaged while she fights off Dementors, and if she doesn't destroy it outright, the prisoners might escape, including Voldemort's little snake-suckers. I sent her into orbit above the other side of the world. Waver, can Servants survive re-entry?"

"Many can," Waver said. "And even if she can't, if she can send a message to her Master, then said Master can use a Command Seal to bring her back to their side before she ends up dying."

"Right, well, we've gotten what we've come here for," Harry said. "But keep in mind…I'm not convinced that this was a truly serious attempt to kill us. Otherwise, they would have sent more Servants."

"Summoning and maintaining a Servant expends a lot of magical energy," Waver pointed out. "We've only encountered two."

"And? I wouldn't be surprised if whoever's behind this summons more. True, most normal people would only be able to sustain a single Servant, even wizards, but I can think of a number of ways to bypass that. Tap into a leyline in the right way, ensure someone else is the mana supply, and so on. And if Morgan le Fay is behind it…I'll admit, Morgan was a prodigy when it came to magecraft and wizarding magic. And she could find a dozen ways to maintain all seven Servant classes at the least. In fact, Vivian's message combined with Saber just confirms it for me. It must be a big thrill for her to summon an alternative version of Ria as a Servant. Having a version of Arturia in her power…it's like Christmas and her birthdays all mashed together for her."

"But why?" Grey asked.

Harry turned to the teenaged wielder of Rhongomyniad. "Because Morgan despises her, Grey. Having Arturia in her power would be an affirmation of what she believes to be proper: Morgan le Fay as the ruler of all she surveys, not Arturia. Remember, Morgan was the child of Uther Pendragon as well, rejected for the throne because she was a woman. That Ria was both a woman and illegitimate must have hurt her pride immensely. And remember, in order to make Mordred, she basically raped Ria. Morgan probably enjoyed it. Morgan may not have been born evil, but by the time she wanted to create Mordred, she certainly was," Harry said with a sigh. "And spite is one of the most powerful motivators. Believe me, I know what it's like, to be on the giving and receiving ends. Compared to destroying Camelot and how she engineered that, basically enslaving an evil knockoff of her half-sister which she may have a thing for seems tame by comparison. The question is…what's Morgan's endgame? If it were about ruling Britain, she'd have done it long ago. Hell, maybe she did, only to find it not to her liking. So she's content to do her own thing behind the scenes. Probably started a war or two for shits and giggles, but Morgan, for all her spite, wouldn't be content to be Queen of the Ashes. Unless she was into playing cricket against the Aussies."

Waver snorted. "I never got the hang of cricket. Even Quidditch's scoring system is saner. However, do you think we should make our way back to Gorgoneion Castle?"

"The Grangers first," Harry said. "I owe them that much at least for making Hermione in this life actually feel welcome." He looked over at the three Pendragons, all of whom looked pensive, Add having changed back to his cuboid form in Grey's cage. "Hey, are you three all right?"

"Fuck no," Mordred snarled. "I don't think that bitch did anything but bruise my dignity, but…Uncle Sal…who the actual fuck was that bitch? Why did she look like an evil knockoff of Father?"

"The Throne of Heroes can potentially hold multiple iterations of the same Heroic Spirit," Grey answered, looking shaken herself. "What we saw was a version of Arturia who somehow became corrupted by a dark power. Even if it didn't happen in this timeline, there has to be at least one where it did…and judging by her power, it's happened more than once, or else she wouldn't be that strong. After all, a Servant's legend fuels their strength."

"How the actual fuck is that possible?!" Mordred demanded.

"…Mordred…the capacity for evil exists in everyone, even I," Arturia said. "In many cases, many of my acts would be seen as evil. What did you think, then, of my refusing to acknowledge you?"

Mordred gaped at her, before she snapped, "That's not the bloody point, Father! How the fuck did an evil knockoff of you get so powerful?!"

"Even if she was a weak Servant, which I doubt," Waver said, "a Master can boost their traits with an increased flow of mana. Leaving aside Morgan's doubtlessly prodigious amount of mana, she could also harvest mana from people. The Assassin from the Grail War I fought in, Carmilla, did so not only to Servants, but to young women and girls, just like she did in life." On their looks, he explained, "Carmilla was an alias she chose, her real name was Elizabeth Bathory. My point is, even if your evil twin wasn't that powerful, Arturia, there are ways her Master can boost her power. God, what I wouldn't give to have Iskandar with me."

"Yeah, well, we don't have the King of Conquerors," Kairi groused. "Let's get going. We're sitting ducks here…"

* * *

The hooded woman chuckled softly to herself as Saber scowled, relaying how the fight had gone. "Ah, I remember that trick. That fool of a Baron got off lightly. Still…you're lucky I monitored the fight through our link and reminded you to use the Portkey I gave you. But you have failed me."

"Due to trickery and treachery," Saber bit out.

"Which are Salazar Slytherin's tricks of the trade. He may not have been as intelligent as that swotty little bitch Rowena or the Elisa bint, but he has a sharp mind, and isn't afraid to play dirty. What's more, he's often at his most dangerous when the odds are against him. That I managed to escape the Fiendfyre he conjured up was due to the fact that he was too damn set on taking me with him that he got fooled by the illusion I conjured up. In truth…I actually do admire him. If only he weren't so smitten with Arturia. Not you, of course, but the version of you from this world."

"A false king," Saber said.

"This coming from a revenant whose body is composed of Spiritron particles?" the hooded woman asked, a wry eyebrow raised beneath her hood. "But it is true, she did not deserve to sit the throne, any more than I did…no, I deserved it more. Though to be fair…I've realised that deserving and being suited for rule are two different things entirely. I prefer to be the power behind the throne rather than the one sitting on it, a kingmaker rather than a monarch. It's why I assented to helping Godric bring Albus up to his little throne. But his time is waning, and someone else will need to step up to the plate. Still…better that Albus go out with a bang, dealing with the reincarnation of the most feared Founder. It's why, when I scryed that Salazar would be reborn as Harry Potter…I issued a prophecy. It also gave me an excuse to stay with him and Godric. Not that he knows my true name. He thinks me to be that fool Vivian, masquerading as a dipsomaniacal near-charlatan of a seer. Or maybe it should be…a Sybil?"

"I'm sure you enjoyed your performance," Saber said coldly. "You always did enjoy them, didn't you, sister?"

Morgan le Fay smiled, her features so much like Saber's own, but more mature, with longer hair. The same cold golden eyes, but dancing with malicious mirth. "Unlike you, my dearest Arturia, I made it a point to enjoy life. Especially once I obtained immortality. After all, what's the point of eternal life unless you can find something enjoyable to fill it? In any case, your failure is not a major setback, even if they've found Avalon, the sheath. They're still only human, only mortal, and against Servants…well, once we have summoned all eight, they'll find themselves outmatched."

"…Eight? I am only aware of seven classes," Saber said.

"The von Einzberns, for all their arrogance, had programmed in a number of classes, not just the main seven. Ruler, designed to act as a referee in special circumstances, is one of them. Another is Alter-Ego, not unlike yourself, in that they are extremely different versions of existing Servants. But I am interested in neither, and I don't think attempting to summon a Beast is very wise. But…the Avenger class looks very promising indeed…"

**CHAPTER 12 ANNOTATIONS:**

**Well, crap. Morgan le Fay's been revealed…and so too are some of her motives and plans.**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	14. Chapter 13: Bonding

**CHAPTER 13:**

**BONDING**

It took, rather unsurprisingly, a lot to persuade Dan and Emma Granger to come with them. If they were as cruel as Elisa's parents were in her past life, Sal would have left them to their own devices after wiping out memories of their daughter, or perhaps even tortured them and killed them himself. But they were good people, decent people, and well worth the effort of explaining their insane story to.

Thankfully, at least part of the story didn't need to be explained. Dan and Emma, after learning of the existence of wizards, had done their research, and knew of Clock Tower, thankfully. What was more, they had even made enquiries as to whether their daughter could learn there. However, they were understandably sceptical of the fact that their daughter and her best friend were reincarnations of people from wizarding history, and that King Arthur and Mordred were female.

However, they were at least persuaded of the danger of the Death Eaters, and they soon packed their bags and joined them at Gorgoneion Castle. It was Waver and Grey who opted to take them on a tour of the castle with Hermione. Mordred, meanwhile, had latched onto Kairi, wanting to know anecdotes about his work as a mercenary for Clock Tower.

As the pair left, Harry noticed Arturia watching them depart with mixed feelings. "What's wrong? You're worried about her virtue?"

"Of course not. Necromancer or not, I believe him to be of enough decency not to try and bed a teenager at least half his age," Arturia said quietly. "…I guess it is…envy. Envy that she gets along with him so well. She looks up to him like a father, or at least a paternal figure, so soon after meeting him."

"…Don't be jealous, Ria," Harry said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "She still looks up to you, but she's got all those feelings inside her to work out. So do you. You act stoic, but you control your emotions, you don't stifle them as much as some people think. Anyway, it's not Mordred that troubles you, is it? It's Saber."

Arturia nodded. "Yes, amongst other things, but she is the most disturbing." Unbidden, they walked back to the reading room where they had spent the previous night. As they did so, Arturia admitted, "How could I have fallen so far?"

"…Easily." On her sharp look, he hastily said, "Ria, you were under so much pressure, the burdens of ruling Britain on your shoulders. What would happen if you broke? I'm not saying that Saber…no, let's call her your Alter for now, as she's an alternative version of you…your Alter is not definitely what you would have become had you broken. Rather…she's a possibility."

"But a strong possibility," Arturia said. "Otherwise, from what I understand about Servants and Heroic Spirits, she wouldn't be so strong, your theories about how her Master potentially empowered her aside. It disturbs me…to see how far I could have fallen. I wish to deny it, but the evidence before my eyes…"

"Whoever summoned her, Morgan or not…she summoned your Alter for the sake of psychological warfare, Ria," Harry said. "And in any case…there's darkness in everyone, even you."

They fell into a silence for a time, until Arturia said, "Sal…I can guess what you did to your relatives. Did you have to?"

"Vernon and Petunia Dursley thought nothing of using me like a House Elf, Ria, and Vernon would have murdered me himself if he wasn't afraid of getting caught. I didn't kill them, but I've left them in a state where they would wish for death if they were able to. Dudley, I left alone. He has a chance of redemption, and I hope he takes it, for as much as I despise him, as he seemed to have a sincere desire to change, I will give him that chance. Do I regret doing what I did to them, though? No. I looked into their minds, and they are the worst kind of Muggles without being overt criminals. I've done worse in my original lifetime."

"…I don't like this. I never liked this part of you, Sal. The one who takes justice into his own hands, and so brutally. All those assassinations you undertook for me…the people you tortured and killed, despite their own crimes being brutal in of themselves…I felt myself disquieted by them."

Harry looked at Arturia, as they entered the reading room, sitting down on the couch, side by side. "Ria…you and I had very different notions of how to achieve justice. You were content to be the king, let your authority be all that was needed. But when I grew up…I knew that sometimes, the only justice was that you could make yourself. But…even though I have this darkness in me, I've made sure, once I learned Legilimency, to make sure of their guilt first. I won't apologise for Vernon and Petunia. They subjected a child, Petunia's own flesh and blood, to indentured servitude, to verbal, psychological and physical abuse, and Vernon entertained a serious notion of killing said child, who was me. Turning them into vegetables was justice, just as it was to Elisa's parents, as they are not good people whom the world could do with less of."

"And who are you to judge that, Sal? You're not God, nor are you a king," Arturia said disapprovingly. "I tried to make allowances for your desire for justice. But there are times when I worry for you, that the darkness within you will swallow you whole. I may have to kill, true, in battle and to deliver the justice of a king, but…I try to do so with honour, to a high standard."

"I think part of your problem was that you were too much in love with chivalry. I mean…in the end, chivalry's just prettying up killing with a nice little surcoat of honour."

"It doesn't mean I am wrong. We've spoken of this before," Arturia said. "Argued about it. And every time, I say, if we are to kill in battle, then we need to hold ourselves to standards."

"I know…and I understand. Chivalry, or rather, rules of engagement for war have their place, because while killing is killing, there are times when it is necessary. But you also need someone to do the dirty work to keep your hands clean. I did it to keep you and Camelot safe. Better to be the dagger at your back than to be one buried in it," Harry said. "I loved you then as I do now, Ria, and I didn't want you to come to any harm. You were strong enough to fight battles on the battlefield and at the bargaining table, but I needed to be the one who stopped the daggers in the dark. It's one of the reasons why I befriended Mordred. The main reason was that she needed someone to care about her, and, well, she was like you…but…I had the feeling she was Morgan's puppet."

"And you never told me."

"…Yeah, that was stupid, but given how you reacted when she told you of her heritage…how would you have reacted if I told you in private? Agravain was already beginning to prevent me from having private audiences with you anyway. And Mordred…she begged to be the one to 'surprise' you. She had this little notion that we could be a happy family. And when I was exiled…she told me, _I'll make sure we're all happy, you'll see!_ Maybe that's one of the reasons she revealed herself to you. Maybe she thought we could be together." He then met her eyes. "…Do you think we can be together?"

"…Perhaps, if you mean more than just friends," Arturia said. "But we changed a lot since our carefree days in the village. Do not misunderstand me…I would rather it be you than so many others who sought my hand. But…we hurt each other during that time, and…"

"Ria…I told you…you're the king of my heart. You always will be. And what's more, I know who wears the pants in this relationship. All I want you to be…is to be more like Arturia Pendragon, not the King of the Britons. More human, and less king. Because if there's one thing that you had that I think you shouldn't have…it was hiding yourself as much as you did. You only allowed the parts of yourself that suited the King of the Britons through your mask. Okay, I'll admit, I did play up being the sinister sorcerer bit at times myself, made a useful deterrent for enemies, but I also made it a point to treat my friends and allies the way I would treat people normally."

"…So with insolence and snark?" Arturia asked.

"…That's not very nice. Then again, I will admit, I wasn't a nice person, not to anyone I considered an enemy. That's probably how Godric and my arse of a nephew were able to taint my reputation so easily. I was ruthless, pragmatic, and rather iconoclastic. I even kicked Merlin in the nuts more than once…though admittedly, that was because he was hitting on some of my apprentices. Thankfully, the older ones. Even a cambion can have standards. So…I guess the pertinent question is, do you want to try and work things out?"

"Now that we have this opportunity to do so…yes." She chuckled softly. "We even have a ready-made family already. Mordred…I believe I am beginning to warm to her, and while I am not sure whether I can forgive her yet, I can overlook what she did. As for Grey…I owe it to her to show her the love her parents clearly didn't, if all they wanted was for her to be my replacement. But Sal…while I appreciate you being the dagger in the dark to keep me safe…I don't want you keeping it secret. Keeping secrets is part of what broke us apart in the first place when Agravain and Godric denounced you. And…promise me that you won't do such a thing again unless they are our direct enemy, or are killers and rapists."

"…Ria, I can't make promises I won't keep. But I promise you, I won't kill anyone who doesn't deserve it."

"…I will hold you to that. I want you to be…_better_. Especially for Mordred and Grey's sakes."

"Bad idea. I'm a bad role model. And yet, I was insane enough to help found a magic school. Goes to show."

Arturia nodded, but she seemed troubled. Harry knew why. She hated the part of him that was violent and dark. She'd been so obsessed with chivalry and fair play, whereas he…well, he grew up knowing that injustice was built into the very fabric of life, that he had to fight, and fight dirty, to get where he was. Then again, he never really put on a mask around her. Around others, yes, but around her, whenever they spoke in private…

The thing was, he wanted her to accept him as he was, warts and all. He had accepted her, or at least what she was behind the mask of kingly perfection she put on when she drew out Caliburn. She was, in many ways, like him, someone who tried to make their corner of the world a better place…they just went in different directions. Not wholly divergent ones.

Suddenly, on an impulse, he said, "If we get out of this mess alive, and I hope we do…let's go on a date, the two of us. My treat, obviously. I mean…we never really went on one in our old lives."

"A date?" Arturia asked, baffled. "You wish to court me, even despite the closeness of our relationship?"

"Ria, we never really got to do those things. The closest we got was going on walks near the village, and it was always with Ector keeping an eye on us. Obviously, it'd be a bad idea while we still have Voldemort and whoever's behind the Servants gunning for us. But…well, maybe we could take a trip somewhere? Where'd you like to go? My magic can take us literally anywhere in the world. We could go on safari in Africa, see some lions, or go to a zoo…Regent's Park has some interesting animals. There's all sorts of theme parks…Blackpool's Pleasure Beach, the Disney theme parks…or maybe you just want a nice meal at a restaurant? There's this cook called Heston Blumenthal I saw on TV, he has these interesting dishes, many of them based on historical ones, and I know how much you like good food. Maybe we could find one of his restaurants or something."

Arturia gave a smile at that. "I'll think about it. Besides…" She held up the hand with a ring on it. "Merlin's already wed us."

"Yeah. I don't mind, it's that he didn't ask your permission that has me pissed at him," Harry said.

"Well, I believe one of our tasks should be to find a way to get him out of his prison. Voluntary exile or not, I would prefer to have Merlin by my side. Especially if my sister is truly still around…and Godric."

"…Okay, but if we manage it, I'm kicking him in the nuts at least a dozen times…"

* * *

"So, what's an actual Holy Grail War like anyway?" Mordred asked, kicking her legs as she sat on a bench while Kairi worked on his weapons.

"I dunno, I've never fought in them. You'd be better off asking Lord El-Melloi…I mean, Lord El-Melloi II. He got the title because…"

"Yeah, he told us. He went into a Grail War where his old teacher, who sounded like a complete dick, was also participating," Mordred said.

"Well, you ain't wrong," Kairi said. "Kayneth Archibald was a dick, but he was also a prodigy. He may have been arrogant, but he could back it up. Problem is, he got killed in that Grail War because…well, he overestimated his ability, and he got backstabbed by his wife…who then got killed by Assassin and her crazy nutjob of a Master."

"And you never felt the desire to join one of these?"

"Oh, more than once, really." He looked over at her. "Most Magi want the Grail for the prestige, or access to the Root. Me? Well…I don't think these knock-off Grails can bring back the dead, unless they're Heroic Spirits. If it was the real deal, actually capable of Heaven's Feel when fully primed…I'd use it for that."

"Who d'you wanna bring back?"

"…My adoptive daughter. Well, cousin, but she was my heir to my Magic Crest. But the damn thing was cursed. I've got a pretty short lifespan thanks to it, and…it killed her," Kairi confessed.

"Yeesh. That sucks," Mordred said. An uncomfortable silence descended on them, before she said, "It's funny…all I wanted from my father was to be acknowledged as the rightful heir…and yet, you gave your daughter that, and it killed her. Not that you intended to. What a fucking joke."

"And Salazar Slytherin? He was okay to you?"

"…If there was ever someone I considered family, even though they weren't, it'd be him," Mordred said. "He's the main reason Father and I aren't killing each other again…though to be fair…Father's been more, well, human over these past few days than she ever was during her reign. In a way, I'm glad. And today, when she defended me against Saber…"

"She cares for you," Kairi said, shooting the teenaged Homunculus a look. "That just proved it."

"Yeah. And…well, I want her love, old man," Mordred said. "I just want her to hug me and tell me that she's proud of me. Even if I can't be her heir, I just…want her to say that I am worthy to be her child. I'd be jealous of Grey getting Rhongomyniad, but…she's got her own problems."

Kairi chuckled, as he returned his gaze to his equipment. "…Yeah. You know, the last day or so have been an eye-opener for me. King Arthur and Mordred were girls, and damned strong ones at that, Salazar Slytherin was a decent guy, and, well…look at you. You're not what I have in mind when I think of Mordred."

"Why is that?" Mordred asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Because you have a good heart. Your name these days is reviled as the worst kind of traitor, but you were just a kid starved for approval and attention and affection." Kairi then returned his gaze to her. "Let's put it this way, if you or your father became Servants, while I'd be happy with Arturia, I reckon I'd prefer you. I'd get along with you way better. You're like an adorable tomboy daughter, troublesome, but strong and with a heart of gold."

Mordred blinked, blushing a little at the compliment. "…Am **not** adorable," she muttered sullenly, albeit out of habit.

"Are so," Kairi said with a smirk.

"Watch it. You're lucky I already like you. Otherwise…well, you'd be singing soprano for the rest of your life."

"Well, one of these days, I think someone should introduce you to _Xena: Warrior Princess_. Camp as hell, but it shows that just because you're a woman doesn't mean you can't kick a lot of arse," Kairi said. "But for now, we've gotta concentrate on dealing with the Death Eaters, along with whoever's behind the Servants."

"Yeah…" Mordred said, looking down at her hand. "I have a lot of issues with Father, but deliberately summoning her in that form, that mockery…it's a grave insult to the King of Knights. And I'll make them pay for that…"

**CHAPTER 13 ANNOTATIONS:**

**Some nice character moments, with Arturia worried about Harry's inner darkness, and Mordred getting ready to bring the pain to whoever summoned Saber Alter. That being said, this is the last chapter of the initial batch, and I don't know when the next one will be out.**

**Review-answering time! ****Sakura Lisel****: I mentioned in a previous chapter that Harry-Salazar basically tore their minds apart. It was that which McGonagall sought out Hermione to find out where Harry is. Harry-Salazar left Dudley alone because he found, through Legilimency, that Dudley was not beyond redemption.**

**WearyCurmudgeon****: It's worth pointing out that, while originally I wasn't going to have Harry or anyone in his faction summon Servants, I actually have been seriously considering it for the past few days, if only to act as a power equaliser. That being said, Alter Ego is a less likely class for our protagonists to obtain. It'll most likely be Lancer, Caster and Assassin.**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	15. Chapter 14: More Allies

**CHAPTER 14:**

**MORE ALLIES**

"We should summon Servants of our own."

Harry looked at Arturia the next morning, as he cooked, with Dobby's help, breakfast early the next morning. "…Okay. Now, why is that? I want to hear your reasons, Ria."

"Y'mind if I have a stab at the reasons?" Mordred asked, looking at her father, who nodded. "Right. Whoever sicced Berserker and Saber on us is trying to use Servants against us. Now, if what Waver said is right, then there's seven classes normally. They may have summoned more Servants already, but if they haven't summoned a full contingent, well…look, I'm confident Father and I can go up against a couple of Servants, but I ain't stupid. We've got everyone else to consider. So, I say we even the odds and summon any Servants they haven't. Was that what you were thinking, Father?"

Arturia nodded approvingly. "Indeed, Mordred. Not only do we bolster our forces, but we need to deny our foes any further forces."

"It's a fair point, assuming whoever has stolen that Grail hasn't summoned a full contingent," Waver said, sipping from a cup of tea. "Harry, I called Rocco Belfeban about how someone, possibly Morgan le Fay, is in possession of the stolen Grail and is using it to summon Servants. I then had to endure a conference call with him, Reines, and Zelretch. The upshot is, Enforcers are on standby to move to anywhere where Servants attack to deal with any witnesses, by removing their memories. Zelretch is calling in a favour with the Head of the DMLE, Lady Amelia Bones, who is one of the few wizards who will work with Clock Tower. However, there's a problem."

"What kind of problem?" Hermione asked.

"Character assassination," Waver said.

Dan Granger frowned. The man had coped surprisingly well with learning that his daughter was actually the reincarnation of one of Salazar Slytherin's prize pupils, along with the fact that King Arthur and Mordred were female. So too had his wife. "Like they did to my daughter not so long ago? Didn't you tell me you put that Skeeter harridan in her place, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded. "_The Daily Prophet_ probably has more muckrakers than her on their payroll, though. But you don't mean character assassination of me, do you, Waver?"

"No. I do read the _Prophet_. Like any opinionated rag, there is useful information for those willing to sift through it. However, it seems that the Ministry of Magic has gone on an all-out attack. They're claiming that Dumbledore is senile, and that Harry is an attention-seeking nutjob, and the claims of Voldemort being still alive are nothing more than delusions. Of course, with anyone who has any knowledge of the politics of the Ministry, and with enough brains, well, it's clear that Fudge is running a smear campaign, encouraged no doubt by Voldemort's richer supporters."

"Oh, lovely," Harry muttered. "I already had people questioning my sanity thanks to Skeeter being a fucking bitch."

"Language," Hermione and her mother chorused simultaneously.

"Oi, Uncle Sal can speak however he fucking well wants," Mordred retorted.

"It's not just the Death Eaters, or at least the supposedly former ones, that worry me," Waver said. "Leaving aside your thoughts that Dumbledore may have had malign intentions towards you, Harry, there are other elements in the Ministry who may be a problem. Specifically Dolores Umbridge."

"Oh, fuck all kinds of duck," Kairi groaned. "That batrachian bitch? I had to deal with her when I had to visit the Department of Mysteries. I had to deal with some Dead Apostle that used to be one of their number. One of the few times the Unspeakables and Clock Tower actually collaborated. Umbridge stuck her nose into things."

"How bad is she?" Arturia asked.

"Bad," Waver said. "For all that many Magi are prideful and opinionated, they are also usually pragmatists. Umbridge…I have had the displeasure of meeting more than once. She is the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. She hides Blood Purist views beneath a saccharine sweet demeanour that fools almost nobody except Fudge. She despises anyone with impure blood, Magi, Muggles, any sentient creature that isn't a Pureblood wizard who follows the doctrine. She's no Death Eater to my knowledge, but she'd be considered a groupie. She fancies herself a kingmaker of sorts, being the power behind the throne. The irony is, she's actually a Halfblood rather than a Pureblood."

"So's Voldemort, the hypocritical prick," Harry said, even as he and Dobby finished cooking, and began serving up the food.

"Voldemort's a Halfblood wizard?" Grey asked.

"Yeah. His real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, and he made Voldemort from an anagram of his name," Harry said. He gestured, and _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ was writ in the air in glowing letters, before rearranging into _I Am Lord Voldemort_. "Anyway…the question is, who will do the summoning? Dan and Emma, as you do not actually possess any kind of magical ability, beyond the latent genes, you're out for obvious reasons. Everyone else present do have some sort of magical potential. Even Arturia and Mordred, as their draconic heritage gives them cores much like wizards do, though they can't use magic per se, save for as a form of bolstering their physical abilities, as well as boosting them temporarily using Mana Burst."

Waver nodded. "Also, keep in mind that summoning a Servant without a catalyst will actually bring a Servant to you that is compatible with your demeanour. Of course, with the likes of Excalibur, Clarent and Rhongomyniad present, they could act as inadvertent catalysts."

"Then, if it is all the same to you, I will decline summoning a Servant," Arturia said. "I fear I may summon one of the Round Table, and someone who may still have issues with me. In addition, I would prefer to be fighting in the thick of battle, not commanding someone else from the rear."

"What about you, Waver?" Hermione asked.

"I'll decline," Waver said with a shake of his head. "While I would love nothing more than to have my king by my side once more, I would need to get the catalyst from my rooms at Clock Tower. In addition, Servants generally do not remember their previous summonings, so the Iskandar I would summon would probably have little memory of our time together. In any case, I am more of an academic than a fighter. However, I can show you how to create the summoning circle as well as the ritual chant. The ritual is actually a relatively simple one by most standards, as the Grail is the one that does the heavy lifting of summoning a Heroic Spirit as a Servant."

"Yeah, I was wondering how something that complicated could be done. Even if it's not the full power of Heaven's Feel, it is snagging a copy of a Heroic Spirit from the Throne of Heroes," Harry mused. "What about you, Kairi?"

"I'll consider it. But we don't know how many Servants the other side have summoned. So, we draw up as many summoning circles as we can, and do the ritual with those willing to do so. We know Saber and Berserker have been summoned. Hopefully, no others have been…"

* * *

"_For the origin, silver and steel. For the cornerstone, gem and the Archduke of Contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg_. _The alighted wind becomes a wall. Close the gates in the four directions. From the crown, come forth. Trace the three-forked road leading to the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat fivefold, and when each is filled, destroy it_."

Harry frowned as he watched Hermione, Waver and Kairi draw out the ritual circles. "Yeah, pretty simple for such a ritual," he muttered.

"You speak from experience?" Emma Granger asked. "If you really are Salazar Slytherin reborn, what sort of rituals did you do?"

"Necromancy was a big one, and I don't mean reviving the dead," Harry said. "Usually, anything with the suffix 'mancy' means…"

"Divination, I am well aware of the nomenclature," Emma said. "In its original form, necromancy meant divining the past, present or future through the summoning of the spirits of the dead. However, these days, the suffix denotes any form of magic, really."

"Thank you, Dr Granger," Harry said with a nod. "Many Muggles I knew in my time were uncultured and unthinking fools who relished their own ignorance, though to be fair, the same could be said for most wizards too. Even these days, wilful ignorance is an all-too-common plague. It is why I am grateful to you both for the fact that you not only treated Hermione with the love she was due as a human being in this life despite her magic, but that you encouraged her learning."

"…You didn't have a good experience with people in either life, did you?" Dan Granger asked.

"I didn't have a good experience with _humans_," Harry said. "A person is not defined by their species, but rather their sentience, intelligence and empathy. There are many non-human entities who nonetheless I would count as a person." He nodded to Fou, who was currently perched on Grey's shoulder. "Take Fou there. He may look like a cutesy toy poodle, but he's actually very smart. He just doesn't talk much beyond cute animal noises."

"Fou!" Fou chirped in irritation.

"Anyway, my point is, I am an unabashed misanthrope," Harry said. "And proud of it. But those I care about, I will protect to the ends of the Earth, and beyond. And Hecate help anyone who stands in my way, because _nothing else will_."

In the heavy silence that followed, Waver cleared his throat pointedly. "Perhaps we should get on with the summoning?"

"Quite right, Waver," Harry said, before he went over to one of the ritual circles. Grey had decided to opt out as well, while Hermione, Harry, Mordred, and Kairi decided to try.

"…Jeez, I dunno how to do this," Mordred grumbled.

"Just focus on your mana, Mordred, like you're using Mana Burst, only, you project it into the circle," Harry said. "And remember the chant."

As the quartet began, Harry noted that only three of the circles were glowing. Kairi's remained quiescent. Still, the chant continued. "_Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_"

The three glowing circles suddenly erupted into pillars of actinic light, scorching the ceiling of the ritual chamber they were using. A sting of pain stabbed his right hand. Harry blinked away the afterimage, and stared at the triptych of forms kneeling in the circles. "Servant Assassin…" said the form in front of him.

"Servant Caster…" said the form in front of Hermione.

"And Servant Lancer…" said the form in front of Mordred.

"…Have answered your summons," they spoke in eerie unison. "We ask of you, are you our Masters?"

Harry stared at the form in his circle. It was a child, a girl who wasn't even in her teens, clad in a ragged cloak. A short ragged bob of silvery white hair framed cute features, albeit marred by a couple of scars. Golden eyes peered at him both curiously and warily.

In Hermione's circle was a woman, a woman clad in an artistic-looking dress with a short skirt that looked vaguely Italian Renaissance in style. Her appearance was, well, like an anime version of the Mona Lisa, with blue eyes twinkling with mirth, like Dumbledore's, but with a warmth that seemed genuine in comparison to his. In Mordred's circle was a man clad in a skintight blue jumpsuit, a crimson, phallic-looking lance in his hand, his blue hair tied back in a ponytail, his lips touched by a cocky smirk.

Harry took the initiative, and knelt down in front of his Servant, coming to her eye level, golden eyes meeting his own emerald ones. He knew the emotions behind them. This was a child who had been deprived of love and warmth, and sought it. But there was also something dangerous in those eyes. "I guess I'm your Master, kid. What's your name?"

The girl cocked her head in a quizzical manner. "Jack. Are you our Mummy?"

"…Sorry, Jackie, I've only got one X-chromosome," Harry joked, though he had to wonder why she spoke of herself in the plural. "I could be your Daddy or big brother, maybe?"

She peered at him, as if mulling it over. Eventually, she said, "Your mana is warm…so warm…" She eventually trotted over, and gently hugged him. "Warm…" she murmured.

"Ahem," said the Mona Lisa-like Caster. "Sorry to interrupt the heartwarming moment, and I do mean that, but I don't think our little Assassin is telling us her full name." With that, she went over, and knelt down next to Jack. "…An Assassin called Jack…you are Jack the Ripper, aren't you?"

Dan blinked. "…What. This girl…is Jack the Ripper?"

"Oh? You know us?" Jack asked, curiously.

"No, no…this can't be Jack the Ripper," Emma said, shaking her head.

"Hey, anyone want to tell us who that is?" Mordred asked.

"Jack the Ripper was an infamous serial killer during the late 1880s," Waver said. "A mysterious killer murdered and dismembered a number of prostitutes. Five are considered to be definitive victims: Polly Nichols, Anne Chapman, Liz Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Kelly. There's a possibility that the killer killed more."

"…We just wanted to go back where it was warm," Jack said morosely. "We wanted to find our Mummy. We thought they were our Mummy."

"She's also a gestalt," the Mona Lisa lookalike said. "A conglomerate of souls, some the vestigial fragments of souls of foetuses aborted by back-alley doctors in Victorian London, others children who lived long enough to die of famine, pestilence or foul play on the streets. All she wanted was to go back to the primal warmth of the womb. All her killings were for that purpose, not out of malice, just a lack of understanding."

Harry had an epiphany. He now knew why he had summoned her. "She's like that kid Madoc, Ria, Hermione."

Arturia frowned thoughtfully, while Hermione winced. "…Like that, Harry?"

"Yeah." He stood, and then turned to the Mona Lisa lookalike. "And who are you? And how do you know so much about my Assassin?"

"Ah, I'm glad you asked!" the woman said with a stunning smile. "I am Leonardo da Vinci!"

"…Bollocks," Dan said succinctly, breaking the silence that followed. "I mean, King Arthur and Mordred being women that hid their gender, I can believe, and they never found out who Jack the Ripper was, but…Leonardo da Vinci was a woman?"

"Oh, right, sorry about that," the so-called Da Vinci said, looking not sorry at all. "I actually _chose_ this form from a prior summoning. I'm not a woman because history got things wrong, I just chose this form based on _La Gioconda_, to have a beautiful body, and to experiment around with another gender. It's a complicated story that I don't really remember in detail that much, due to, well, that being a previous summoning. But I did know many of those present as Servants. Hence my recognition of adorable little Jackie there, along with the Pendragons and Waver Velvet, though you don't seem to be Servants. In any case, my form is irrelevant, for genius is universal. Now, Lancer, should I introduce you, or do you want to do it yourself?"

The blue-haired man shrugged. "Hey, if you know who I am, go nuts."

"Right! Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present to you Sétanta, Ireland's Child of Light, or, as he's better known, Cú Chulainn!"

"…So that spear," Emma mused, looking at the crimson spear in the blue-clad man's hand, "that's the Gáe Bolg."

"Oh? Does this lass know who I am? And yep, that's the Gáe Bolg," Cú Chulainn said. He then turned to Mordred. "Anyway, you're my Master, eh? Tell me, girl…you any good with that sword?"

"…You looking down on me because I'm a girl?" Mordred growled.

The Irish Lancer scoffed. "As if! My teacher was a woman, Scáthach of Dún Scáith. Who do you think gave me the Gáe Bolg? If she ever caught me disrespecting her because she was a woman, she'd bugger me with the damned thing."

Arturia cleared her throat. Once she had everyone's attention, she said, "I am sincerely grateful to the three of you answering our summons. I am Arturia Pendragon, better known to history as King Arthur." She then introduced the others.

Kairi, who had been silent until now, spoke in the silence afterwards. "Well…that's a problem."

"What is?" Mordred asked.

"Of the four summoning circles we used, only three became active," Waver pointed out. "And as we have summoned Lancer, Caster, and Assassin…"

"Someone else has summoned Archer and Rider," Harry cut in. "…Well, I think we have a lot to talk about with our new allies. You three…this isn't a Grail War, not in the normal sense. Someone's using a Greater Grail copy to summon Servants for their own army. We summoned you guys because we needed the help, and to deny our enemy the chance to summon any further Servants. I can't even guarantee that the Grail will grant you a wish. Is that fine?"

Da Vinci shrugged. "I don't have a wish per se, but the Grail is a fascinating product of magecraft that I'd love to study."

"I don't care, as long as I get some good fights in," Cú Chulainn said.

Harry looked down at Jack, before kneeling down to meet her eyes. "And you, Jackie?"

"…We want to go back inside Mummy, where it's warm," Jack said quietly. "Are you saying we can't?"

"…Probably not. But…hey, Waver, can leftover Servants persist after a Grail War?"

"As familiars, yes," Waver said. "The process is mana intensive, but…"

"Well…you know what, Jackie? I can give you something better than going back to the womb," Harry said. "A childhood."

"…Is that a good idea?" Emma asked. "Having a serial killer here?"

Arturia just gave a rueful smile. "Sal may be a misanthrope, but he has a soft spot for those abandoned and discarded like he was. If anything, I understand why he summoned her completely…"

**CHAPTER 14 ANNOTATIONS:**

**So, there you have it. Harry, Mordred and Hermione have summoned Servants. Now, I have to confess, while originally writing this story, I had no intention of them summoning any Servants. But I realised something that more than a few reviewers pointed out, that there's a power gap, and while Arturia and Mordred are on the level of Servants, it'd make things tricky. Hence this.**

**Now, the choices of Servants. I discussed this with Arawn D Draven, at least for two of them. Giving Harry-Salazar an Assassin is a no-brainer, as Salazar, in this story, is basically an Assassin himself. In fact, if he was summoned as an Assassin, he'd be like Semiramis, having a lot of Caster traits as well. Which Assassin? Well, there are a lot of compatible ones, but I always have a soft spot for Jack the Ripper from ****_Fate/Apocrypha_****. Her appalling costume aside, you get the feeling that, if she had a relatively normal Master, she'd change for the better, becoming more like a child who, while with disturbing tendencies and skills, is actually more, well, normal or at least moral compared to her ****_Fate/Apocrypha_**** incarnation. Harry-Salazar, being himself a bastard child by rape and ostracised by many, would sympathise. Plus, he's had experience with dealing with tykebombs who need a moral compass installed, as hinted above. Not to mention a lot of you adore the homicidal little urchin.**

**Mordred…well, Cú Chulainn actually would suit her. They're both hotblooded battle nuts with a desire to protect others. As for Hermione and Da Vinci, well, I actually considered a number of other Casters. Medea was always my backup, but I actually seriously considered a couple of other Servants, partly for the comic effect. Nero Caster (albeit in a different costume to her swimsuit) and Solomon. The former, unfortunately, wouldn't do much for the story other than traumatise Waver, which would be amusing, while the latter…well, it'd be a lot of crumbling pedestals if I had him acting like Dr Roman.**

**Now, this version of Da Vinci is technically both the same and not the same as the one who worked for Chaldea. She doesn't remember everything about the events of ****_Fate/Grand Order_****, but she remembers some broad parts of it, as well as the identities of many of the Servants she worked alongside, due to the unusual circumstances of her summoning and her demise in that game. She knows Arturia and Mordred, and is surprised to find them as humans rather than Servants. She's met Waver, at the very least, as the Pseudo-Servant version of Zhuge Liang.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Dunno when the next one will come out, but it will have the aftermath of the summoning…**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


	16. Chapter 15: Consolidation

**CHAPTER 15:**

**CONSOLIDATION**

"What a delightfully improbable story," Da Vinci said as she worked on establishing a workshop. "You and Harry Potter are actually reincarnations of magic users from Arthurian times, and Salazar Slytherin who, I should point out, didn't exist in my neck of the Kaleidoscope, was a childhood friend of Arturia's?"

"Is that any less improbable than you being a woman?" Hermione asked as she watched on, along with Waver and her parents.

"Nope. Thankfully, the Grail in this timeline has filled in the details of this era. I understand the divisions between wizards and Magi."

"But how did you know our identities, Da Vinci?" Waver asked.

"It's a fairly long story, Lord El-Melloi II. I don't remember everything from my previous summoning, but…Marisbury Animusphere…he hasn't founded the Chaldea Security Organisation?"

"No. He's married to a Servant he used to win an Auxiliary Grail War I participated in. Medea of Colchis. They have a child."

"And Lev Lainor?"

"…Committed suicide."

"I see. Sadly, that's a good thing. You may think that coldhearted of me, but Lev Lainor was a sleeper agent for an entity that sought to bring an end to humanity," Da Vinci said. "He caused the deaths of many friends. Hopefully, with him dead, there is no threat to humanity, at least from that particular corner. In any case, Chaldea was an organisation that used Rayshift technology to deal with threats to human history, with Servants being a key part of the process. I was one of the first summoned by Chaldea, albeit through an initially rather unstable system. Before I faded away, I created a puppet body that I basically contracted as my own Master, and designed it after the Mona Lisa, the epitome of beauty. Hence…" She gestured at her body.

"And Jack the Ripper and Cú Chulainn are known to you from Chaldea?"

"Along with yourself and the Pendragons," Da Vinci said. "You became a Pseudo-Servant vessel for Zhuge Liang, the Chinese politician and strategist, though the personality and memories were primarily your own. Arturia and Mordred also were summoned, though other versions of Arturia were our foe on at least three occasions, albeit in three different forms. This Saber you brought up was one of them. The other two were different Lancer versions of her, wielding Rhongomyniad. As for Cú Chulainn…well, he's a battle nut, as you've guessed. Jackie…well, you don't have to worry about her."

"We don't have to worry about our daughter being in the proximity of an infamous serial killer?" Dan asked in a dangerous tone of voice.

"Jack the Ripper was a child who never developed a moral compass. The version I saw, while a little to eager to use her knives, became a fairly normal child under the influence of the surviving Masters of Chaldea, one capable of great affection."

"And Jack is like Madoc, Dad," Hermione said.

"Who's Madoc, darling?" Emma asked.

"The child of a warlock, one enhanced through vile rituals," Hermione said. "He was going to be sent to Arturia's court to assassinate her, but Harry…Salazar managed to assassinate the warlock first. There was a lot of debate amongst the Founders as to what to do to Madoc, but Sal opted to try to rehabilitate Madoc. He was only ten when Sal rescued him, but he was already responsible for the deaths of even more people than Jack the Ripper. And like Jack the Ripper, if what Da Vinci said is correct, Madoc didn't know any better. I should know. Madoc was a classmate of mine, and he actually saved me more than a few times from Blood Purists. But…he died. Supposedly, he had an accident with a spellcrafting ritual. In truth, I'm certain Godric had tortured and killed him. He was only fourteen."

"But why would he do that?" Emma asked, understandably horrified that someone who was supposed to be a paragon of Magical Britain's history was so ruthless.

"…Because Godric Gryffindor hated anything to do with Salazar Slytherin. What's more, Godric had wanted Madoc dead from the beginning. He considered Madoc tainted by the warlock, and a danger to Arturia, and given that Godric had a possessive attitude towards Arturia…"

"He wanted to hurt Salazar Slytherin by proxy," Da Vinci said. "Take away anything that gave him happiness, satisfaction, or fulfilment. Am I wrong?"

Hermione nodded. "Only Helga's patronage saved me when Sal was exiled to France, accused of treason. But Godric…I was lucky to survive when he eventually disappeared, allegedly heading off to deal with another warlock, only to fall in battle. By that time, Sal's reputation had been thoroughly trashed, despite our best efforts. In any case, if there's one person who could rehabilitate someone like Jack the Ripper, it'd be Sal…"

* * *

Harry watched, with Arturia and Grey looking on, as Jack dismembered a training dummy, her arm and hand a blur, before the dummy simply fell apart. One thing they did do beforehand was find a way to change her clothing: beneath her cloak, she wore little more than what amounted to a vest and skimpy panties, and Harry, disturbed by the outfit, had tried Transfiguring her clothes. Thankfully, it seemed to work, and she was now dressed in trousers and a hoodie. Jack seemed to enjoy her new outfit.

"She's worse than Madoc," Arturia observed. "Madoc killed mostly on the orders of the man who raised him. But…I can understand why you draw the same conclusion."

"Madoc was my failure…because Godric took him away from me," Harry said bitterly. "And if what Da Vinci said was correct, then Jackie committed those murders simply because she didn't understand how to get warmth. Emotional warmth and contentment, rather than physical warmth, I mean. Hey, Jackie?"

The little Assassin skipped over. "Yes, Daddy?"

"Now, I need to lay down some rules for you. First, and most importantly, don't hurt or kill me, or anyone who is my ally or friend. No innocent bystanders either. Only attack those I direct you to, please."

"But why?" Jack asked. It wasn't anything more than genuine puzzlement fuelling her question.

"Because it will make other people sad or angry. We will try our best to give you the love you want. You don't need to go back to the womb to be warm again. Secondly, don't touch anything unknown in this castle. I don't know whether they can affect Servants, but I have some nasty booby-traps that may affect a Servant. Jack…I know what it's like to be an unwanted child. But I had people who kept me warm, not on the outside, but here, where it counts." He poked her chest gently with a finger, around where her heart was.

She peered at him, before she said, "You're not like the others we called Daddy, those of us who lived long enough to know what a father was. Many weren't there. Others…we wish weren't there. Some beat us, others pimped us out, and others used us themselves."

Arturia walked over to Jack gingerly, Grey following her ancestor. "Jack…I promise you…if kindness is what you desire, then kindness is what you will get. I made my mistakes with Mordred, but I won't with her now, or with you. As long as you do not kill the innocent, I will be glad to give you the warmth you were deprived of in life."

Jack peered up at Arturia. "Caster called you Arturia Pendragon…King Arthur. But you're a woman?"

"It is a long story," Arturia said. "…But let me ask you something, Jack…do you feel remorse for what you did?"

After a moment, Jack nodded, her eyes betraying anxiety. "…We…we didn't want them to die. We only wanted Mummy to let us go back where it was warm, back into Mummy. The world was so dark…the smog, the streets, the river…choking and corroding and cold…we just wanted warmth. We wanted their warmth, but…we didn't want them dead."

"Then…I want you to remember that those unfortunate women didn't deserve it, any more than you deserved your fate. This is your second chance, and perhaps you will have a better life than before, Jack." She then stood, before turning to Harry. "Not just Madoc…she reminds me of you, Sal. You had not dissimilar eyes."

"You're taking the fact that you're allied with a serial killer well," Grey remarked. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she doesn't seem malicious or anything, but you are a paragon of chivalry, Arturia."

"Aye, I am. But I also have Harry and Agravain, spymasters and assassins both, to thank for keeping me on my throne, as much as I detest it. And…I have seen many children who have been rejected by the world. Sal was the first. I don't like having an Assassin on our side, that much is true, but…I recognise her value, not just as a Servant, but as a person."

"Exactly," Harry said, hoisting the Assassin onto his shoulders, to her unexpected delight. "Some people deserve a chance at redemption. The trick is figuring out who deserves them. Now, Ria, Grey, we'd better go check on Little Mordred, and hope she and her Servant haven't been sparring too hard…"

* * *

Mordred was having the time of her life, and she knew Cú Chulainn was too. Given the big grin on his features, a grin she knew was mirrored on her own face, he was loving their fight. It was a challenge, and in a good way. While she'd been in more than a couple of fights since waking from stasis, this was truly enjoyable.

Eventually, the Irish spearman called a halt. "I'm guessin' we can do this all day, Master, but time's probably of the essence. So we'll stop there."

Mordred clicked her tongue, but nodded, conceding the point. "Yeah. You're pretty good. Y'know, maybe I should've sought out your teacher for help."

"You'd have liked her," Cú Chulainn said. "She was the Queen of the Land of Shadows, a realm of darkness and death. Very stern and serious, but she's not without a sharp wit." His face fell. "That being said, my teacher…she couldn't die. She became immortal, and hates that. Probably still alive even now, and no doubt wants someone who can put an end to her. Still, you're my kind of Master, Mordred. Nice to see that you're more than what the myths say about you. You're a feisty and strong lass. I could've done with you by my side when Queen Medb attacked Ulster."

Kairi shook his head. "Yeah. I still can't get over how strong Servants are, let alone how strong Mordred and Arturia are."

"Yeah," Mordred said, looking at her hand. "Still weaker than I was at Camlann, though. So's Father. Our recovery in stasis must've done a number on us. To be honest, I'm glad we didn't get any of those others on the Round Table. It would've been awkward to say the least. Gawain was an overzealous musclehead, Agravain was a prick, Gareth…she was okay, nice, just annoying. Lancelot…well, you know about what happened with Guinevere. Tristain…he went on about how Father couldn't understand human feelings, and while he had a point, he was one to talk, given his own affair with Iseult. They wouldn't understand. Hell, I'm lucky Uncle Sal was there when Father and I awoke, to keep us apart long enough to calm down."

"Hey, at least you and your father get a second chance," Cú Chulainn said. "I had to kill my own son in a battle. Very long story there, and frankly, I wish I didn't have to. Had to fight my foster father Fergus as well during Medb's attack."

"Did you kill him?" Mordred asked.

"Nah. Managed to get him to leave. Then again, falling in battle may have been better. He got killed by a blind spearman while he was swimming. I guess that's the lot of a hero. We meet tragic bullshit endings a lot of the time. Take me. Medb tricked me into eating dog meat, breaking the geas I had, a vow to never eat it. But, well, refusing well-meant hospitality was also bad. Between a rock and a hard place, you'd say these days. Medb had me weakened in time for her champion to kill me."

"So, dog meat's your kryptonite?" Kairi asked.

"The hell's kryptonite?" the Lancer Servant asked, confused.

"It's a modern reference, never mind," Kairi said. "I meant it was your biggest weakness."

"Yeah, though for Fergus, it was basically any girl who caught his eye," Cú Chulainn said with a shrug. He looked over at Mordred. "The moment he met you, your pops, that Grey kid, Caster and that Hermione girl, to say nothing of that Granger woman…well…he'd be trying to chat you up."

"If he did, I'd shove Clarent where the sun don't shine," Mordred scoffed.

The door to the training room opened, and Uncle Sal, along with Father, Assassin, and Grey entered. "Who're you planning to give a Clarent colonoscopy to, Little Mordred?" Uncle Sal asked.

"She was just not happy at the thought of my foster father Fergus hitting on her," Cú Chulainn said.

"I would imagine not. I have heard tales of the deeds of Fergus Mac Roich, Cú Chulainn, and his sword, Caladbolg, is a relative to my own Excalibur. But I assure you, neither myself nor my child take kindly to unwanted suitors," Father said.

"Fine by me," Cú Chulainn said. "I like a strong and beautiful woman, but I know where to draw the line. Besides, you two look like you're close. I saw the rings. But I'd love to spar with you too, King of Knights."

"Perhaps later, Cú Chulainn," Father said with a smile. Mordred once more felt a pang in her chest. Why couldn't she smile more like that back during Camelot? "My child has met with your approval?"

"Yep! A spitfire, she is. I never thought I'd have such a Master, one who could give me a good fight when I'm bored. Still, I want to get to the real action before too long."

Mordred found her gaze going over to Assassin, perched on Sal's shoulders, and felt a pang of envy. By the time she first met her uncle, she was already a teenager. The best she could get was a broomstick ride around Hogwarts. Best birthday present ever. But…while Morgan had given her some small semblance of a childhood, even treated her well, Mordred knew she was a tool, meant to usurp King Arthur.

_I wish…I wish we could have had a normal life_, Mordred thought to herself. _Me, Father, and Uncle Sal. Yeah, I mean, I don't want a boring life like so many people these days seem to have, no adventure, but…I want to be family_.

Sal must've seen her expression, and he said, "Hey, Grey, Ria, group hug."

And soon, they were drawn into it, even Assassin, who had hopped down from her perch. Only Kairi and Cú Chulainn weren't in it. Sal then said, "…All of us here are family. Don't forget that. We're also a family who can get along, who can stick together, despite everything. I promise you, I will do whatever I can to protect you, and I know that every one of you will fight to protect both yourselves and each other, to the end. Ria, Mordred, you are easily the strongest women I know. Grey, your worthiness in wielding Rhongomyniad proves your strength. And Jack…well, you will fight to keep your family?"

"...Family? You want me to be part of a family?"

"You didn't get the chance to be in one. As long as you don't hurt your family or anyone we don't want you to, you can be part of it."

Jackie nuzzled into the group further, before finally, they broke apart. Arturia then looked at Cú Chulainn. "It will be an honour to fight alongside you, Cú Chulainn. Merlin regaled me with tales of the exploits of you and your fellow Irishmen. Are you up to the challenge?"

"Hey, gimme some good strong foes to fight, and we're good," the Irish Lancer said with a grin. "Besides, my Master is Mordred, of all people, and you're King Arthur. Okay, I didn't know you two were girls, but I ain't complaining one bit. So, where do we go next?"

"We need to find Godric and Morgan's whereabouts first," Harry said. "Same with Voldemort. But I think between myself, Hermione and Da Vinci, we might be able to find a solution to that. That being said, I'm sure I know where Godric will be. Even if he's not there all the time, he already has his own castle, because what is a king without a castle?"

"…Hogwarts," Arturia said. "Godric's fiefdom is at Hogwarts."

"Exactly, Ria. He may not rule overtly, but I'm sure Godric has his base there…"

**CHAPTER 15 ANNOTATIONS:**

**So, there you have it. We've had some discussion with the Servants, and Harry and Arturia have come to the same conclusion. Once more, I should say that I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out.**

**The character Harry brings up, Madoc, was an OC I created for a previous draft of this done as a ****_Fate/Apocrypha_**** crossover, where Harry and Arturia debate Jackie's resemblance to Madoc. Elements of that draft made it into ****_My Beautiful Huntress_****, though in the prior draft, it was Arturia, of all people, who ended up becoming Jackie's Master. Because I thought it would be funny. Anyway, Madoc was named because I needed a Welsh-sounding name that also seemed vaguely sinister, and I thought of the late Welsh actor Philip Madoc, who played a number of memorable roles in ****_Doctor Who_****, including the War Lord from ****_The War Games_****, and Dr Mehendri Solon from ****_The Brain of Morbius_****, both iconic villains from the classic series.**

**Review-answering time! ****Reishin Amara****: Yes, this version of Da Vinci retains some of her memories of Chaldea. Normally, Servants can't, but Da Vinci likes to say 'fuck you' to a lot of preconceptions. Seriously, her female body is one she created herself to remain in the world after an unstable summoning.**

**Innortal****: Godric and Morgan are yet to summon Avenger, but they will…**

**DZ2****: I'm glad you enjoyed it. True, there's a lot from the Nasuverse here, but I'm sure you can pick it up as you go along.**

**HP-DG-SB-NR-RG-PN****: Jackie is a lot less endearing in ****_Fate/Apocrypha_**** than she is in my works. This is, admittedly, due to her Master, Reika Rikudou, being a bad influence, to say nothing of the lack of mana. She's still cute, and she gets some adorable moments (a particularly hilarious, if darkly so, moment happens when she slaughters a bunch of Yggdmillennia Homunculi and even a golem, only to be called on a mobile phone by Reika, and she struggles a little to answer the phone, with the ensuing conversation very like a concerned mother talking to her child…despite the fact that said child is spattered with blood), but she is also scary as hell. But I see the potential in her to grow beyond that, potential done in ****_Fate/Grand Order_****. I try to also make her more endearing in my ****_Fate/Apocrypha_**** fics. She's still a dangerous little girl, but you can have dangerous and crazy without losing an endearing and cute nature. Look at Tiny Tina from ****_Borderlands 2_****.**

**deathgeonous****: Morgan is definitely a villain in the Nasuverse, though I am giving her some characterisation. Godric…well, I didn't start the original version of this story with him as a villain, but I decided I wanted another antagonist, and when I thought back to the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry, I had this image of the Dark Ages equivalent of a jock harassing the quiet outcast kid, and how it went from there. Actually, at one point, I was going to have Godric reincarnated as James Potter, but I thought that didn't work out, but a lot of James Potter from my WBWL fics have made it into my characterisation of Godric. Like my bashable James Potter, Godric is basically a bully who never grew out of it, just became more subtle, and who is obsessed with the woman of his dreams, regardless of whether said woman wants his attentions or not. However, he's also dangling on Morgan's strings to a degree, and he does know it, much to his chagrin. Dumbledore is their pawn, to set Godric up as the true messiah of Magical Britain, once everything falls into place.**

**No numbered annotations this time.**


End file.
